When a Shadow Falls
by Gwenneth
Summary: A wizard seeks to destroy Middle-Earth, starting with the Elves. When Aragorn goes to Legolas' home, he finds him gravely injured and soon discovers powers his friend has hid. Can the fellowship and their friends save Middle-Earth again?
1. Vague Warnings

**When A Shadow Falls  
**  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the Lord of the Rings characters...only the ones I have created (such as Graelath, Lowgala, etc...) **All **others belong to Mr. Tolkien and company. I am not making any money from this writing, just love to do it!!!  
  
**Rating:** PG-13 for violence and bloody scenes I guess (and there is torture later)  
  
**Spoilers:** Well...I guess a small one for Return of the King because it is set after that movie and assumes Aragorn is king. But other then that, I only vaguely reference the movies, if at all.  
  
**Timeline:** The story is set about two years into Aragorn's reign as King; before Frodo, Elrond, Galadriel, and Gandalf leave for Valinor.  
  
**REVIEWS ARE GREATLY APPRECIATED**...I don't like flames much (who does!) but if you absolutely **MUST** flame me...try to be civil at least. Criticize specific points, don't just say, "Your story sucks!"  
  
**Special thanks:** Go to _phoenixqueen_ for all the help she has given me with this story.  
  
**Note:** Originally I had this story posted through chapter 20, but I realized that there were several parts that were inconsistent and didn't flow correctly, so I have taken down these chapters and begun a detailed revision, and this is also why the first chapter is not the same as when I originally posted.  
  
**Final Note:** As it stands now, MOST of the story is finished and the end should be up very soon...I didn't really leave any big cliffy or anything, but I have things to wrap up at the end. PLEASE don't let that deter you from reading!  
  
-Gwenneth

* * *

**_Chapter 1: Vague Warnings_**  
  
_Sometime shortly after the Last Alliance and the cutting of the Ring from Sauron's hand:  
_  
The sun was setting over the hidden isle of Valinor. As Anor slowly sank into the sea, the pure orb washed the beautiful paradise in warm shades of golden-orange light. The voices of the Valar and the elves living on the hidden isle rose in song, bidding farewell to the day and welcoming the comforting light of the stars, praising Varda, called Elbereth, for her glorious creation. And yet, there were two voices missing from the song of the Valar, for they were engaged in serious conversation in the halls of Ilmarin, the dwelling of Manwe and Varda.  
  
The two Valar walked slowly through the halls, speaking of recent events in Middle Earth, such as the Last Alliance of Men and Elves, and the defeat of Sauron. The Firstborn and Second-born had united to face this threat, and had triumphed, yet that was not what weighed most on their hearts.  
  
The High King of the Valar paused at a window and stared out at the golden sky, watching as it slowly darkened to blue, and the silver stars appeared overhead. He sighed and turned to his companion, who waited patiently for his superior to speak.  
  
"Namo my friend, you saw the power of Graelath, just as I did. If he remains unchecked, he will one day destroy Middle-Earth. I have no doubt of this, not since he killed Cellnen."  
  
The other Valar inclined his head in agreement. He was the Dooms-man of the Valar, the Guardian of the Souls, and Keeper of the Houses of the Dead that lay on the edge of the western sea of Valinor. It was he who passed judgment on the souls of those who had lost their lives and came to his halls, at Manwe's orders. Though his given name was Namo, he was best known among the Elves and Men as Mandos, named so for his halls.  
  
Sighing, Mandos looked at his friend. "I know this. It is a pity, for he was once great and powerful, yet we should have foreseen that it would come to this, knowing how Melkor must always undo the things that are great and good in Arda. We must not allow this to happen, we must do something and it must be something drastic I fear." The Keeper raised an eyebrow. "That is, unless Iluvatar has told you that we must not interfere?"  
  
Manwe shook his head. "He has not told me that we must not interfere, and we are the keepers of Arda, as you well know, my friend." This was an important issue, for Manwe was the Valar that was closest to Iluvatar and the one that best understood his thoughts and his will. They dared not interfere if the Great One had decided that Graelath would be the cause of the ending of the world and the beginning of the Second Song.  
  
The two Valar were silent now, each knowing what their only option was. Only one being had ever stood up to the mighty wizard before, but he was dead. He was here, in the Halls of Mandos, the halls of the dead.  
  
Mandos sighed. "Without interfering directly, we have only one choice, my friend. With your permission, I will release Cellnen from my halls and send him back to Middle-Earth."  
  
Manwe eyed his friend. "As you did Beren and Luthien?" he asked. The two lovers had come to the Halls of Mandos, Beren after being slain by the great wolf Carcharoth, and Luthien following him due to a broken spirit. Her voice, more beautiful than any that had ever been heard, had enchanted the Valar and he had offered her a new life. She chose a mortal life with Beren, and the lived together for another forty years before returning to the Halls, where they yet remained, awaiting their time to be released into the Fate that awaited Men.  
  
Mandos shook his head. "Not physically, but he will be reborn into another. Whoever we choose for this task will not have Cellnen's knowledge, but will have his magic, as a skill of the heart, not the mind."  
  
Manwe looked at the other Valar and smiled lightly. "Do you have anyone in mind?"  
  
Mandos nodded. "Yes, I know just the couple he shall be born to," he turned and nodded at the High King, offering a smile of reassurance. "Do not worry any longer, my friend. All will work out in the end."  
  
He moved off now. There were preparations to be made for the reincarnation of Cellnen. It was not an easy task, but one that was not impossible. It just did not happen very often. Mandos knew that timing was crucial. He had to time it so that the renewed Cellnen would be born before it was too late. This new elf must be old enough to assume his destiny by the time that Manwe had foreseen when the Dark Wizard would attempt his rule of Middle-Earth. So he would need a couple who were trying to have a child right this instant. And he knew who was.

* * *

_Minas Tirith... Two years after the War of the Ring..._  
  
"My Lord Elessar?"  
  
The king's eyes rose to meet the gaze of one of the guards. The man was standing in front of the dais, holding a parchment scroll in his hands. The guard bowed once he had Elessar's attention, and offered the scroll. "My Lord, this message just arrived for Her Majesty, tied to the leg of a hawk."  
  
Aragorn nodded, giving the guard permission to approach and give the letter to Arwen, who was seated in her throne at Aragorn's side, while they listened to the petitions of the people. The guard did so, handing the scroll to the Queen, who accepted it graciously.  
  
Arwen studied the seal on the scroll. Aragorn leaned over to see. "Who is it from, _meleth nin_ {my love}?"  
  
Arwen smiled. "It is from Eryn Lasgalen. It is stamped with the seal of the royal family." The Queen broke the seal and unrolled the scroll, her eyes flicking to the signature at the bottom. "It is from Princess Maranwe, Legolas' older sister."  
  
Aragorn smiled. "I remember her. I met her a few times when I was visiting Legolas. I didn't know you knew each other."  
  
Arwen nodded. "She visited Lothlorien once, when I was living there, and we became friends, and after she left we stayed in touch through messages. I've haven't heard from her since before the War though." The Queen glanced back down at the parchment and began to read, her face darkening as she read. Aragorn watched, a frown coming over his own features. When Arwen raised her head and allowed the parchment to fall into her lap, Aragorn leaned over and laid a hand on her arm.  
  
"What does she say, Arwen? Is all well in Eryn Lasgalen?" Aragorn smiled only slightly. It was nice to be able to give the woods of Legolas' home a gentler name than Mirkwood. During the War, the elves had finally been able to drive out the orcs for good, and in the wake of that cleansing, the elves had renamed the forest Eryn Lasgalen. Aragorn brought his mind back to the present as Arwen handed him the parchment.  
  
"Maranwe doesn't seem to think that all is well. She sounds worried. I remember that she had a gift of foresight, but I don't know how strong it is. She inherited it from her mother, I know that much, but I've never actually witnessed it." Arwen replied.  
  
Aragorn frowned and turned his attention to the letter, allowing his eyes to skim over the graceful handwriting of the princess.  
  
_To Queen Arwen Undomiel, from Princess Maranwe Thranduliel,  
  
Greetings, mellon nin, and congratulations on your marriage and coronation. Legolas told me all about the ceremony. I am so happy for you, I know how long you've been waiting for this, and I couldn't be more than thrilled. I wish I could have attended, but with all the changes here, I couldn't get permission from my father to come.  
  
My friend, I write to you now for more reasons than just extending my congratulations. For the past two years, since the end of the War, things have never been better. Our forest is finally showing its true beauty and throwing off the shadow that has so long held sway here. Eryn Lasgalen has truly become a beautiful place, and I am told, more beautiful than it was when it was known as Greenwood, though I do not remember those times.  
  
However, I have a secret fear that this is all about to change, though I have not dared to speak of my fear to anyone. Things have been almost too perfect, and my heart is troubled. I know that I have told you of my foresight before now, and how much confidence I had that you and Estel would eventually be wed, and I know that that has brought you comfort in the past.  
  
Well, recently I have had another vision, of Eryn Lasgalen in flames and my people, our people, destroyed. This vision came not two weeks ago. Since then I have felt a shadow growing on my heart and in my mind. I can feel that something terrible is going to happen soon.  
  
Legolas arrived from Ithilien two days ago, to visit with our father and to discuss what he is doing in Ithilien. That same night, I had a second vision of an attack on the city, but again I did not dare to say anything to my father, for I have no proof, and he is not one to readily accept foresight as viable evidence.  
  
Legolas' homecoming seems to have triggered the events that I fear. Eryn Lasgalen has completely thrown off the shadow of Dol Guldur in the last two years, but now a new shadow seems to be descending on us, yet no one but I seem to have noticed it. I have watched my people, and they are beginning to become too concerned with food, drink, and festivals, more than usual, though the summer is our regular time for feasting. Even I have found it difficult to concentrate enough to send this letter to you, but the warning in my heart grows stronger with each passing moment.  
  
In the wake of these visions, and this new shadow, I felt that I had no other option left to me but this. Though I am going over my father's head, I feel that this message was a necessity. I am sending this letter to you in hopes that you will show it to Estel, and mayhap he will be able to help us. I have also sent messages to your father in Rivendell, and Lady Galadriel in Lothlorien, though I do not know if they will take me seriously.  
  
Arwen, I have a horrible feeling that you and Estel are the only hope that Eryn Lasgalen still has, though my people do not know it. Please, my friend. If you can think of any way to convince Estel to send us the help that we need, I know that I at least will appreciate it, even if I must endure my father's wrath for taking matters into my own hands, though that seems to be a small price to pay for the survival of my people. We are not as strong as we once were, as so many of us have sailed into the West. I await your reply, and hopefully your aid. Come quickly, my friend, or what I fear may indeed come to pass.  
  
-Princess Maranwe Thranduliel  
_  
Aragorn frowned and rolled up the scroll, thinking. "That doesn't sound good at all. Arwen, could Maranwe be right? I do not know her well enough to judge the validity of what she says."  
  
Arwen looked thoughtful. "I believe so. Maranwe is one of the most level- headed people that I have ever met. She is not one to get this worried without good reason, and I have never yet known her foresight to be wrong, though she has not told me everything."  
  
Aragorn sighed. "There has been no reason to fear any attacks or danger since the War, so what evil could possibly still exist that could make Maranwe fear for her people so? The elves of Eryn Lasgalen are still great warriors, and I cannot believe that they would be so easily defeated, or not sense the shadow that Maranwe claims is befalling them. They have lived too long under shadow to not sense its presence."  
  
Arwen nodded, but frowned. "Estel, Maranwe would not undertake the risk of sending me this letter asking for aid rashly. She is very aware that Thranduil would resent her taking matters into her own hands, which makes me believe that this threat is indeed serious."  
  
Aragorn sighed, weighing the options in his mind. Arwen seemed to believe Maranwe, and that was an important factor, but Aragorn simply didn't know enough about the princess to know how serious she was. Thranduil would resent Aragorn bringing an armed force to Eryn Lasgalen, and Aragorn could not afford to annoy the elven king, who might prove a valuable ally later.  
  
"I don't know about this Undomiel. I know that she is your friend, but I can't see any reason that would justify bringing an armed force into Eryn Lasgalen, and possibly irritating Thranduil." Aragorn finally replied, wondering if Arwen would be angry at him.  
  
Arwen, however, surprised him. "I see that, Estel, but Maranwe isn't asking for an army, just whatever help we can send." The Queen grew thoughtful. "What about disguising our intentions with a state visit? That would give you a chance to speak with Thranduil about whatever aid he could offer us, before my people all sail, I could see Maranwe, since she is my friend, and you would get to see Legolas. A state visit by the King and Queen of Gondor would justify us bringing a small entourage, and that might be all the aid necessary until we can assess the situation and decide if we need to send for more troops."  
  
Aragorn smiled slowly. "I like the way you think, Undomiel."  
  
Arwen laughed lightly, despite the situation. "I learned how to play the political games from watching _Ada_ and my grandparents. They are some of the best diplomats that I've ever seen, and I also learned how to be subtle from El and El. Practical jokes do teach you subtlety, if nothing else."  
  
Aragorn laughed and signaled to Faramir to approach the throne. The Steward did as requested and came up to his King. "Yes, my lord?"  
  
Aragorn smiled. "Faramir, we've received a letter from Eryn Lasgalen, and Arwen and I have decided to make a state visit to King Thranduil. We will go alone, and bring only a small entourage of guards along. Please see to the arrangements while we finish here."  
  
Faramir nodded. "Of course my lord." Bowing, the Steward hurried out of the large hall to oversee the preparations for the journey to Eryn Lasgalen.  
  
As he left, Aragorn then gestured for one of the guards to approach. When the man did, the King ordered him to find Elladan and Elrohir. Arwen's brothers were in Minas Tirith to visit their sister and adopted brother, and Aragorn felt that they needed to know about this sudden decision to visit Eryn Lasgalen, and give them the opportunity to come along if they wished.  
  
It was only a few minutes before the guard returned, with the elven twins in tow. The two identical, dark-haired brothers hurried to the front of the room and their siblings. Elladan, the older of the two, was the first one to speak. "What is going on, Estel? We just passed Faramir in the corridor and he mentioned something about you making a state visit?"  
  
Arwen answered for her husband. "I received a letter from Princess Maranwe, and she has asked us to come, because she believes that there is a threat approaching Eryn Lasgalen." She handed the letter to the twins, who studied it, their faces growing grim as they read.  
  
Elrohir sighed. "Well, if she has sent a similar message to _Ada_, I can't believe that he wouldn't react to it."  
  
Elladan nodded. "The same with _Daernaneth_ {Grandmother}. However, we can do something for you Estel. We can travel to Rivendell, and inform Ada that you are heading to Eryn Lasgalen, and see what he says, possibly bring a group to support you from Rivendell as well."  
  
Aragorn smiled. "That is a wonderful idea El. Arwen and I wondered if you wanted to come with us, but if we can keep Ada completely informed on the situation, we'll be able to react better if there really is a threat."  
  
Arwen nodded, but frowned. "If you're going, at least take a small group of men with you. I'd feel better, because if there is a threat, we don't know where it is coming from and you don't want to be on the road alone."  
  
Elladan nodded. "All right, sister dear."  
  
Aragorn nodded. "I think I will also send a message to Legolas' people in Ithilien. If we're going to coordinate this, everyone should be involved."  
  
The twins nodded and hurried to prepare for their own trip, while Aragorn stood from his throne and the hall fell into silence. The king announced his and Arwen's intentions to make a state visit, and stated that during their absence, Faramir would be in charge, and court would not be held until their return.  
  
Aragorn dismissed the court for the day, and as the people all stood respectfully, Aragorn took Arwen's arm and escorted her out of the room through the door behind the thrones, towards their own private chambers where they could prepare for the journey.

* * *

_Meanwhile in Eryn Lasgalen..._  
  
"Father? We have received word from Landriel that orcs have crossed the borders of the forest." Legolas had interrupted his father's meal, but the King did not usually mind. For the most part, his son wouldn't bother him with useless information.  
  
Looking up from the plate of cherries and other fruit he was eating, Thranduil sighed. "Well, are they organized? Why would this be of consequence to us?" The elf lord was so used to attacks on his realm by now that he did not want to make any hasty decisions.  
  
His son shrugged. "The messenger said the party was large and well armed. He was worried; perhaps we should increase the border guards just in case."  
  
Thranduil shook his head. "No, I do not feel a threat." That was the end of it. Legolas knew from experience that his father often would not stray from his decision. He felt it kind of odd that his father had dismissed his worries so quickly. It was unlike the elf to do so.  
  
"As you wish, my Lord," Legolas said, turning to leave. His father's voice stopped him.  
  
"You do not agree, _ion nin_ {my son}," Thranduil said, leaning forward. His son rarely contradicted him, but the elder elf could hear something strange in his son's voice. He had been different since the Fellowship, he was bolder. This worried Thranduil for some reason that he could not explain.  
  
Sighing, Legolas conceded despite his feelings that this was a threat. He couldn't lay a finger on why he did not press the matter, but something about being here had made him somewhat apathetic. And he had not grown bold enough to argue with his father yet. "No, I guess my fears are unfounded, there is no hard evidence orcs are coming or are of danger to us."  
  
His father nodded, a small smirk crossing his face. "I am glad you agree with me. You still have a lot to learn about ruling."  
  
Legolas begged to differ, but said nothing. That was odd, he thought to himself. It wasn't like his father to be so cold, something was definitely not quite right here. He pushed the thought from his head. "May I be excused?" Legolas asked, tapping his foot impatiently.  
  
"Go," Thranduil said, somehow feeling satisfied that his son's difference of opinion had been squashed.  
  
Legolas hurried from the room, frustration burning, but tactfully held in. He passed by his friend Galinel, who knew immediately something troubled the prince. "My father will not see reason; he denies that there is reason for worry."  
  
His friend patted his shoulder gently. "Well, perhaps he will have no choice but to see reason," the elf said, oddly apathetic as his father had been.  
  
Legolas shook his head. "I feel great evil, great danger," the prince replied. "I fear that that time will not come."  
  
He hurried away now, frowning as he thought about what had just transpired. Ever since he had arrived in Eryn Lasgalen on this visit, things had seemed strange. The elves walked around aimlessly, unsure of what they were doing or why they were doing it.  
  
Legolas himself had begun to feel a bit odd, but he hadn't become so far gone as to not feel the threat approaching. _Why do they not worry?_ he thought to himself. Stopping in the courtyard, he sat on the ledge of a pool and sighed.  
  
There was definitely something different about the King. His father was wise and Legolas knew it. Thranduil had fought in the Last Alliance, why he did not see these approaching orcs as a danger, the prince could not fathom. Normally, Thranduil would not tolerate orcs passing through the forest at all.  
  
He prayed that his instincts were wrong.

* * *

_Somewhere deep in the Misty Mountains..._  
  
They were easier to control than he had originally thought. The King of Eryn Lasgalen was a bit unwieldy, had to be continually monitored lest he would cast off the shadow of the spell. Other than him, he had control over almost all the elves in Middle-Earth, save the Ringbearers who had not left for the Undying Lands yet.  
  
"My plan is working wonderfully," he said to no one, for no one was in the room. "Soon, the elves will be destroyed and I need only to defeat the world of men to take over Middle-Earth, to complete what my 'master' was unable to do."  
  
Sauron had been defeated at the end of the Third Age. No one had known he had an accomplice, so to speak, besides Saruman. Graelath had been loyal all along, but knew that his master would be defeated. He had fled before the tower had fallen, hiding deep in the Misty Mountains until that time when he would be able to ferment a plan.  
  
The time had come, he was going to wipe out the elves of Middle-Earth and then the men would have no strong ally to fall back on. He chose the elves because they had magic and he did not wish to contend with that.  
  
"You will sit in your cities, controlled by my spell, apathetic to all warnings of threat, merrily going about your business," Graelath smirked. "And then the Uruks and Orcs will destroy your cities, one by one, with almost no resistance."  
  
However, he did not know that there were those who could withstand his spell, those with destinies to fulfill and powers beyond his knowledge. He knew Thranduil was a problem, but knowing that made it less of a problem for he could increase the spell in the elf lord's case. He was unaware, however, that the king's son possessed a power he feared and knew how to use it.  
  
Graelath had easily fooled the Ringbearers into leaving their cities with a fake message from King Thranduil. While they traveled toward Eryn Lasgalen, their cities would be destroyed. Without the power of the Elven rings; Lothlorien and Rivendell would be easily defeated.

* * *

_Eryn Lasgalen..._  
  
"NO!"  
  
Elves lay strewn all over the city's paths, eyes glazed over in death, blood saturating the very ground beneath them. Aragorn ran forward, looking for any signs of life after his initial shock wore off. The Gondor soldiers were quiet, in awe at the unexpected carnage before them.  
  
Aragorn's throat was tight with grief as he hurried from elf to elf, looking for signs of the living. _How in the world did this happen? Surely an attack of this magnitude would be seen in advance? What is going on here?_  
  
Arwen wept openly, she knew some of these elves; they had been guests in Rivendell. "Estel, Maranwe was right! We are too late, they have been slaughtered. What could have done this? Who could have!" she cried, as she managed to wipe her tears from her eyes and set her jaw.  
  
Aragorn was at a loss. "I do not know what has befallen the Elves, but I fear greatly for the royal family and as much as I wish we could do something for these dead, I think we should press on." He hated to leave the dead elves lying on the forest floor, but he had no choice. They had to make haste to the royal city; he had to know if Legolas and his family were dead or alive.  
  
The Gondor party passed through the dead city, careful not to tread on the elves littering the streets. Arwen murmured an Elven prayer for the dead as they galloped on toward Thranduil's palace.  
  
Aragorn's heart beat rapidly as they neared the palace. No guards came, no life moved. _Not a good sign_, he thought to himself, scanning the walls that surrounded the palace. His heart jerked in alarm when he saw that the gate was open, for it was never open at night, and it was not yet dawn.  
  
They did not slow until they came to the courtyard at the center of the palace, the same courtyard that Legolas had sat in earlier that day. "We are too late!" Arwen shouted, seeing the first of the dead. "How is it that no one realized this was coming? Even Maranwe was uncertain, it was just a feeling she had? This could not have been a small force!"  
  
Aragorn dismounted, touching one of the elves who lay on the ground. He was warm still. "These are newly dead. Some may still yet be alive, quickly spread out and search but be wary!" he warned. The men immediately moved to follow their King's command; while three others dismounted and fell into step behind the royals.  
  
Arwen and Aragorn ran for the throne room, each knowing exactly where to go thanks to previous visits to the city. Their eyes were met with red. Arwen gasped with a combination of horror and grief, while Aragorn closed his eyes weakly.  
  
Thranduil and Maranwe were splayed out on the throne room floor, looking almost asleep. However, the red pools beneath them told the truth. There was no sign of Legolas.  
  
The king and queen were about to continue their search, thinking the royals were dead and wanting to find Legolas, when Aragorn picked up a barely perceptible movement from the dais. Thranduil had taken breath! Hurrying over to the elf king, Aragorn knelt beside him and reached out to find a pulse. His heart skipped a beat when he found one.  
  
"The King is still alive!" he cried out in surprise and relief. "Thank the heavens they are not all dead!" His voice must have pulled Thranduil from his unconsciousness, for the elf blinked his eyes and they focused on Aragorn.  
  
He struggled to speak, unsure of why he was in such pain. "What happened?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper. "I am hurt?"  
  
Aragorn frowned. He had not expected the king to not know what had happened. He was hoping the elder elf could tell him. "The city was attacked, many are dead. It is the work of the orcs. Surely you knew they were coming."  
  
Thranduil shook his head lightly. "A shadow, I could not break from the shadow."  
  
He said no more, wincing in pain. Aragorn uncovered the chest wound, gasping at the extent of the injury. "I can not heal this on my own, but I can stop the bleeding so we can get you out of here." The orc that had taken Thranduil out had obviously used one of their crude scimitars, and had barely missed the elf's heart, but had managed to nick one of the King's lungs. Aragorn was very surprised that the elf king hadn't drowned in his own blood from a punctured lung before he and Arwen had arrived. _The Valar were truly protecting you, hir nin_ {my lord}. he thought with reverence.  
  
Thranduil nodded in understanding, letting the king do what he had to. While Aragorn worked, Arwen pondered Thranduil's words. _A shadow? Didn't Maranwe mention a shadow falling over Eryn Lasgalen? If only her foresight had prompted her to write sooner, we might have arrived earlier._  
  
As Aragorn neared the end of what he could administer, Thranduil let out an enraged cry. He had seen Maranwe, lying behind Arwen, who had been trying to shield her from the king's eyes.  
  
"My daughter, dead!" he cried, tears falling from his eyes, something one rarely saw elves do. Then the eyes cleared. "Aragorn, where is my son?" His outburst caused him to suck in a sharp breath at the pain that pierced his chest.  
  
Aragorn's eyes searched the hall, spotting a pile of orcs, arrows protruding from their bodies, arrows that the former ranger recognized as belonging to Legolas. The green-gold turkey feathers cut into a diamond shape were distinctive to the Elves of Lothlorien, but Legolas had been given a Lothlorien bow and quiver of arrows during the Fellowship's stay in the Golden Woods. "This way!" he shouted, moving to follow the trail of dead toward what he knew to be Legolas' quarters. He left one of his guards, Domir, with the king but stopped short when Thranduil spoke.  
  
"I am coming; help me up. I must see my son. I vaguely recall him warning me of this, I must know if he is dead." The effort of such a long speech had weakened the king, but he struggled to his feet with the help of Domir.  
  
"Very well," Aragorn said, knowing resistance was futile. They reached the door of Legolas' room and found an even larger pile of orcs here. Peering in, Aragorn shouted in anger. 


	2. A Fear Confirmed

**Chapter 2:** **_A Fear Confirmed  
_**  
_Earlier that day...  
_  
Galinel had left shortly after they had talked in the courtyard. The elf prince had a sense of foreboding as he watched the elf ride away. Danger was approaching and the city was not ready for it. He feared he would never see his friend again.  
  
Sighing, Legolas sought out his older sister, Maranwe, knowing she would at least listen to him, if not agree.  
  
"Legolas? Is something bothering you? You seem worried, _muindor nin_ {my brother}." Maranwe had come up behind the prince, taking him off guard. She could be completely unnoticeable when she wanted to be.  
  
The elf prince nodded. "I am worried, very much so, _muinthel nin_ {my sister}." He motioned for her to sit down. "I felt a strange fear in the messenger's voice this morning. I fear our city will be attacked and we will be unprepared."  
  
Maranwe frowned. "Legolas, you worry too much. We are not defenseless, even now. A mindless rabble of orcs should be no match for us."  
  
Her brother's eyes clouded. "We can not depend on the orcs being mindless, Maranwe. The Uruk-hai are not mindless and are often in the lead now. You have not fought orcs under their leadership; they are well organized and can easily overtake this city if there are enough of them."  
  
Maranwe was silent. Rarely did her brother speak of his time with the Fellowship; Maranwe suspected that he was tired of answering questions and being hailed as a hero, even now, and he had never before despaired about anything. She realized he must feel very strongly about this or he would not have spoken so.  
  
"Have you spoken to _Adar_ {Father}?" she asked, inwardly knowing the answer already, but asking anyway.  
  
"Yes, but he did not seem worried. Actually he seemed strangely docile, like he was not even listening." The elf prince answered, looking down toward the ground and kicking a pebble that happened to be within reach of his foot.  
  
His sister sighed. "I will at least spread word that you are worried. Our people will fight for you, _muindor_ _nin_ {my brother}, for they love you, no matter what _Adar_ {Father} says."  
  
Legolas nodded and smiled. "Thank you Maranwe, I would feel much better if the people at least suspected an attack of some kind."  
  
The prince wished he could overrule his father and call up the warriors to fight off the orcs. He knew they were coming, it burned inside his head. But Thranduil loathed war, having seen so much of it. And Legolas could not go against his father's orders.  
  
He tried to shake off the feeling of dread. His father was not stupid; surely he knew what he was doing. But the prince couldn't relax; he felt as if his father did not know what he was doing, did not have control of himself. But of course that was absurd. Or was it? Now he was really confused, his head spinning.  
  
Legolas had gained the respect of the people as a warrior fighting against the shadows coming from Dol Guldur, and had become a hero thanks to his exploits with the Fellowship, but as much as his people loved and respected him, he was still only the prince and had no real power to make decisions. No, he could not do anything. His mind finally locked into that mindset.  
  
Maranwe had hurried off by now, silent tears flowing down her face. She knew something her brother did not know for certain, but she had foreseen it. The city would fall, Eryn Lasgalen would be destroyed. She only hoped her brother survived to help fight whatever evil had befallen Middle-Earth for he was strong and true.  
  
A nagging in the back of her mind made her stop in her tracks. _Tell him...tell him about the visions you have been having!_ Maranwe actually half- turned, preparing to do just that, return to her brother and tell him not just of the visions but of the shadow she vaguely perceived and the letter to Arwen.  
  
Something stopped her. A wall, an impenetrable wall seemed to stop her from proceeding. _**Why? There is no threat**_, a voice in her head whispered, **_no reason to warn Legolas. Everything is just fine._**  
  
Maranwe shook her head trying to clear the fogginess. Why had she stopped? Wasn't she finished with her conversation with Legolas? He had drawn into himself, apparently stuck in his own thoughts, so she had left. There had been nothing else to say, right?  
  
Sighing, she turned again and headed toward the palace, thinking of her dear brother. She remembered the first time that she had seen her younger brother and realized his fate...  
  
**-FLASHBACK-**  
  
Maranwe, Princess of the Elven Realm of Mirkwood and only child of King Thranduil and Queen Elenya, sat on a bench outside her parents' chambers, anxious to be allowed inside. Beyond those doors, the Queen was in labor, bringing Maranwe's new sibling into the world. One of the royal guards had come to fetch her from her room this morning, but according to one of the healers coming and going from the room, her mother had been in labor all night. Maranwe was excited to meet her new sibling and be the oldest child, instead of the only child.  
  
The piercing wail of an infant rang out from behind the heavy wooden doors. Maranwe jumped at the unexpected noise, and resisted the urge to press her ear against the door to hear more of the sounds coming from the room.  
  
There were several moments of silence, before she heard the low murmur of voices approaching the door. She rose to her feet as the door swung open and Thranduil stepped into the corridor. The Elven King looked weary, but overjoyed as he smiled at his daughter. He beckoned her inside the room, closing the door behind her.  
  
Maranwe hesitated, suddenly nervous to approach the bed where she could see her mother reclining, propped in place by a mountain of pillows, holding a wrapped bundle in her arms. Thranduil rested a hand on his daughter's shoulder, gently pushing her forward.  
  
Maranwe approached the bed quietly and slowly, and the Queen smiled tiredly. Her face was drawn with exhaustion, but she too looked overjoyed. "Maranwe, _iel nin_ {my daughter} come and see _muindor le_ {your brother}."  
  
Maranwe climbed up onto the bed, and looked at the bundle cradled in her mother's arms. Wrapped snugly in a tiny green blanket was an angelic face, with the smallest features that the young princess had ever seen. Delicately pointed ears graced the baby's head, and he yawned and wrinkled a tiny speck of a nose before opening his eyes.  
  
Maranwe stared into those eyes, eyes as deep and blue as the sea. She could not look away from those shining orbs, which seemed to hold unbelievable wisdom, as if an elf thousands of years old was looking back at her, even though that wasn't possible since the baby had only just been born. For a moment, she felt like she was drowning in the fathomless depths of blue, before the baby blinked and the sensation stopped.  
  
The bed sank slightly beneath her father's weight as he sat down on the edge of the bed behind Maranwe. She shook her head slightly and blinked her own grey eyes, before looking back at her brother again. This time she saw no sign of the deep wisdom in the infant's eyes that she'd seen only a moment before, and the baby simply looked curiously back at her. Soft wisps of golden hair, like their father's, crowned his head. "What's his name?" she whispered.  
  
Queen Elenya smiled and looked at her husband. "He will be called _Legolas_, the Greenleaf of the trees in spring." This was a fitting name for the new prince, as he had been born at the end of winter and the beginning of spring.  
  
Maranwe smiled. "_Mae govannen, Legolas, muindor nin_ {Well met, Legolas, my brother}." Privately, to herself, she resisted the urge to weep in both sorrow and joy. Joy, for Legolas' birth would bring new hope to their people. But sorrow, for Maranwe alone knew that her baby brother would have a long and difficult road ahead of him, full of turmoil and struggle, but also full of love, light, and hope. Maranwe vowed to herself that she would do everything in her power to watch out for her little brother and keep him from harm.  
  
**-END FLASHBACK-**  
  
Maranwe still remembered that day vividly. It was etched into her memory and would never leave it. Since that day, she had done everything possibly to fulfill her oath, and had been as protective of him as he would allow, especially after their mother had sailed to Valinor. They had a very close relationship, and could tell each other anything, except for one thing.  
  
Maranwe had never told her brother about the experience she'd had when she first gazed into his deep blue eyes, and he'd never mentioned it. That was a secret that she would always keep, for on that day, the path her little brother would walk had been shown to her, and she'd seen, in the depths of his eyes, a great and ancient power interwoven with his already bright and shining soul, a power that she knew was intertwined with his destiny.  
  
As she left the courtyard, her tears flowed faster down her cheeks. She would not spread word, for a shadow had befallen her as well

* * *

Darkness approached Eryn Lasgalen and still Legolas kept watch from the courtyard. He would not sleep tonight; danger grew in his mind as the hours crawled by. He couldn't believe no one else felt it, no one else was worried. Even Maranwe had gone to bed, leaving Legolas entirely on his own.  
  
Suddenly, he heard a snap as a twig broke beneath a heavy foot. All at once the city was bathed in fire; flaming arrows ricocheted all around, turning night into day. Screams permeated the air. How the orcs, for they were indeed orcs, had gotten in, the prince could not fathom.  
  
Rarely were elves taken by surprise. He had been waiting for something, but his thoughts had been muddled. Something was wrong but he didn't have time to think on it now. He ran back to the royal residence and met with extreme resistance. Obviously someone realized that this was the home of the ruler, for orcs were swarming the buildings Legolas still called home, even though he now lived in Ithilien.  
  
Notching an arrow with astonishing speed, he let it fly, knocking an orc back against a wall. It didn't take the creatures long to see the threat and they immediately flooded toward the prince.  
  
Gritting his teeth, Legolas shot arrows in rapid succession into the group as they hurried to stop him. Soon, they were too close to use his bow and Legolas quickly reached over his shoulders and snatched his twin knives from their shoulder harness.  
  
As he edged toward the throne room, slashing in a wild fury at the orcs around him, he heard a familiar voice. "Legolas!" Maranwe had come out of her room and now saw her brother, hopelessly outnumbered, and fighting alone.  
  
"Get out of here!" he shouted to her, thrusting his blade into the belly of an orc and spinning to meet the next attack.  
  
Instead of running away, Maranwe ran into the throne room where she knew her father remained. Why he had not come out with all the racket Legolas was making didn't seem to occur to her. Legolas groaned in frustration, uncertain why she had been so careless, and was about to shout to her again to leave when he heard an agonizing scream.  
  
"Maranwe!" The elf prince wailed, sprinting past the startled orcs to the throne room entrance. He let out a pain-filled moan. "NO!" Maranwe and Thranduil had been unarmed; they were laying side by side, death having already taken them.  
  
Hearing the orcs coming after him to renew the fight, Legolas ran toward his chambers, leaving a trail of dead along the way. Once inside his room he set his jaw and awaited death. He would go down fighting at any rate.  
  
The enemy flowed into the room now, some falling under Legolas' arrows, his aim impeccable even in the face of such adversity and certain doom. Then he swung the bow over his shoulder and began to slice with his daggers, anything that moved was fair game to the blades.  
  
He was so busy fighting the orcs in the room he did not notice the Uruk enter with a strong crossbow. Hearing the zing of an arrow leaving a bow, Legolas turned toward the sound and was rewarded with a sharp sting in his left shoulder knocking him back a step.  
  
He gasped, feeling sudden pangs of pain and glanced at his shoulder, half surprised to see the arrow protruding from it. He moved to continue fighting, but during his lapse of concentration another arrow had been let loose, this one hitting him in the midsection.  
  
He faltered in surprise at the impact, not even having heard the bow this time. "No fight left elf?" The Uruk said as his blackened teeth appeared in an evil grin. "Good riddance!"  
  
Legolas only now saw the sword in the creature's hand and could do nothing to stop it. The Uruk swung the blade and Legolas felt it slice into his stomach, agony and despair washing over him.  
  
He fell to his knees as the Uruk ripped the blade free. The orcs and their leader, certain their adversary would die, left the room, not even bothering to further injure the elf.  
  
Legolas slumped forward with a groan, disbelief in his eyes. Falling to the ground, the arrows dug deeper into his flesh and he whimpered as the blackness overtook him. Blood began to spread across the floor, seeping steadily from the wounds.  
  
Somewhere far off, a demonic laugh echoed through a lonely tower.

* * *

_Present Time...  
_  
"No, this can't be happening!" Aragorn shouted, his voice breaking with emotion. He ran toward the far side of the room and dropped to his knees beside his friend. Kneeling in the blood that had pooled around the fallen elf, Aragorn let tears slide from his eyes. Legolas had made it through the war without so much as a scratch to show for it, yet here he was, lying in a pool of his own blood, the victim of a horrible tragedy.  
  
Arwen had also run into the room, but came to a stop at Legolas' feet, crying out in horror at the sight as silvery tears flowed down her cheeks from her hauntingly beautiful grey eyes. "Is he..." she cut herself off, not wanting to complete the question, lest it make the answer real.  
  
Aragorn couldn't see how the prince couldn't be dead with so much blood around him. He reached forward tentatively; not really wanting to seal what he felt was inevitable. He touched the elf's neck in an attempt to find a pulse but pulled away when Legolas groaned and twitched.  
  
"By the Valar!" Arwen cried, now falling to her knees beside Legolas, across from her husband. Aragorn gently flipped his friend over, careful not to cause more injury to the elf prince.  
  
Those present, which now included a few of the soldiers who had heard their king's cries, gasped. The blonde elf's eyes had fluttered open and were only slightly glazed, though filled with pain and anguish.  
  
His face scrunched up into a tight grimace as he took a breath and felt searing pain in his lower torso. He immediately tried to hide his pain. After thousands of years doing so, it was a hard habit to break. "E-estel? Arwen? Is it you?" he managed to whisper.  
  
"Easy," Aragorn whispered. "We are with you now, all will be fine _mellon nin_ {my friend}."  
  
Judging by the wounds he knew he had received and the pain he felt, Legolas would have argued the opposite if he had the strength to do so, which he did not.  
  
Just then, Domir and Thranduil arrived, the elf having had to travel slowly. Seeing his son's eyes open, looking up at Aragorn in pain, the elf lord rejoiced. "_Ion nin_ {My son}, he lives!"  
  
Legolas heard his father's voice. _But he is dead_, the prince thought to himself. Looking toward the door with tired eyes, he saw his father, supported by a man of Gondor, clutching a bloody chest wound. "_Ada_ {Father}?"  
  
Thranduil struggled to get to his son, forcing Domir to fall to the ground with the elf lord as the king reached out to grab his son's hand. "You fought well, _ion nin_ {my son}. Continue to fight." His eyes darkened, seeing the pain his son was in. Legolas began to struggle for breath.  
  
Arwen placed her hand on his forehead and frowned. "He is cold, going into shock, we need to do something fast."  
  
Reaching into the pack she had been carrying in case they found survivors, Arwen drew out Aragorn's satchel of healing herbs and materials. "Here, Estel. Can you help him?"  
  
The king of Gondor took a deep breath and looked into the pain-filled eyes of his friend. He had to help him, Aragorn had a feeling he was too important to die.  
  
"I will be able to help him, I have to. He can not die lest the Silvan elves disappear from Middle-Earth forever." He took the proffered satchel and began rummaging around in it. Suddenly, all eyes jerked back to Legolas when he cried out loudly, jerking a little as a wave of pain swept over him. He had squeezed his eyes shut at the sensation and when it had subsided, he opened them again. They had glazed over more.  
  
Thranduil held fast to his son's hand, slowly losing his own battle to stay conscious, but determined to stay conscious for his son. His memory was cloudy, he did not remember the prince arriving in Eryn Lasgalen, couldn't remember anything really.  
  
Time was of the essence that much Aragorn knew. If he was to save the elf, it would be with what he did here and now. "Leave us," he said to the soldiers. "Search the rest of the city and set up guard."  
  
Legolas was struggling to say something, but finding it difficult to breathe let alone speak. He finally managed to get out the words, "Did not hear them coming."  
  
Aragorn faltered. "How? Elves have the best hearing in all Middle-Earth!" _If they were caught unawares, we will be hopeless_, he thought. He shook off the feeling of vulnerability and spoke again. "Be vigilant, once the search is complete we will barricade ourselves in here until he can travel."  
  
Thranduil, even in his weakened state, looked shocked. It is true, he had not expected an attack, hadn't known there was one until Aragorn had roused him. How could he have been caught so unawares? Then it hit him. _The shadow_.  
  
Legolas did not speak again so Aragorn suspected he had nothing to add to the conversation. The elf's breathing was labored and he was struggling to stay conscious. Aragorn decided he had to remove the arrows still in his friend before he could go any further.  
  
Gripping the prince's blood-slicked hand, the man explained gently what he was going to do. The look in Legolas' eyes told him that the elf accepted this and Aragorn smiled. "You are brave, my friend."  
  
He looked then to Arwen and said, "Will you be able to restrain him? Legolas may be gravely injured but I've no doubt he is still strong."  
  
The queen nodded and with Aragorn's help was able to slide under the fallen elf, placing his head and shoulders into her lap so she would have a firm grip on his arms. Legolas knew what was coming and glanced at his father, then locked his eyes on Aragorn's.  
  
Estel took hold of the arrow in Legolas' shoulder and pulled quickly. His friend pushed back against Arwen and tried to break free, but she held him tightly and whispered to him to quiet his groan.  
  
That hadn't been too bad, but the stomach wounds were quite painful and Aragorn loathed having to cause his friend more pain. But the arrow had to come out before he could staunch the bleeding.  
  
Gripping the last arrow, he looked into Legolas' crystal eyes and took a deep breath. He yanked hard and the elf prince cried out this time, the piercing sound echoing through the halls of the residence.  
  
It was a short cry, but no less striking then a longer one would have been. Aragorn leaned in close to Legolas and spoke soothingly to him in Elvish. Once the young elf had calmed down, the king continued to administer aid, layering _athelas_ on the wounds and bandaging them tightly to stop the bleeding. Once they were no longer bleeding, he would stitch them up in order to help Legolas' natural healing ability.  
  
By the time he was finished, Legolas was deathly pale and wheezing with each breath. Aragorn was worried, but he knew his friend was better off now than when they had first arrived. His eyes were clearer and he was no longer writhing when pain hit, only closing his eyes and gritting his teeth.  
  
"Rest, _mellon nin_ {my friend}. We will be here a few days before we can move you to Gondor for proper healing." Aragorn whispered, laying a hand on the elf's head to test his temperature.  
  
Thranduil breathed a small sigh of relief before acquiescing to Aragorn's wishes and lying down to rest as well.  
  
Legolas smiled lightly, knowing he would be safe as long as Aragorn was at his side. For a moment, he worried that the orcs would return while he slept, but the pull was too strong and he gave in to the darkness.  
  
Thranduil waited until his son had fallen asleep before speaking. "Aragorn? I need to speak with you," he said, his voice tired, but resolved. When the king had seated himself beside the elf lord, he began. "I have been long under a shadow, I am beginning to remember being in a fog of sorts. Nothing mattered but food and drink; we were all shrouded from the outside world. I fear a spell of sorts was cast, making us easy targets. The shadow lingers, but I am able to overcome it." Looking to his son now, he sighed. "Legolas was not affected too much by it, which is why he fought."  
  
The elf king's eyes betrayed his guilt. "I failed my people. I was unable to resist the spell; it was too strong, even for me."  
  
Aragorn was silent for a long moment as he sought the words that would reassure the elf. "It is not your fault. None of us knew there was a threat. Not since Sauron has there been any reason to fear attacks of this scale. You are not to blame for these deaths, for if what you say is true, you could do nothing to prevent this spell from overtaking you. We will find out what is behind this, for I fear they come for men next."  
  
Thranduil nodded. "After ridding Middle-Earth of Elven magic, the evil being who did this will think men weak."  
  
Aragorn set his jaw. "Let him be the one to be surprised this time."


	3. Revelations

**

* * *

Disclaimer:** I do not own anything that you recognize from Lord of the Rings. That credit belongs exclusively to J.R.R. Tolkien. The only thing I own are the characters you do not recognize, such as Maranwe, Graelath, and any others that might pop up. This applies to all future chapters as well!

* * *

**Chapter 3: _Revelations_  
**  
_A few hours later..._  
  
"He is resting?" Arwen asked. Her husband nodded. She sighed. "This is a great loss of life and the earth already mourns the death of the Elves." Looking outside the palace window, she sighed. "Estel? Why do you think Legolas was the only one to fight? He must have known something, or withstood something, the others did not? Obviously, Maranwe felt a shadow but couldn't fight it."  
  
Aragorn nodded, pondering the Queen's question. "Until he wakes up I don't think we'll find the answer to that question. I do know that Thranduil now realizes he was under a shadow, one he couldn't shake off."  
  
While they talked in low tones, neither of them knew that the Elven prince was listening. He was in too much pain to fully sleep and could hear every word they were saying. _So it is true_, he thought to himself. _That vision I had years ago...about a shadow and destruction. I had forgotten about it, now I wish I hadn't.  
_  
Legolas knew this was part of his destiny; that his fate was tied to whatever had caused this shadow. His sister, who he wished more than anything had not been killed, would have told him it was fate that he lived to fight it. She had always known he would be important. She had inherited the gift of foresight from their mother and hers was stronger then his feeble, latent version.  
  
He remembered years ago, something she had told him.  
  
**-DREAM-  
**  
Playfully, Legolas pushed Maranwe toward the pond in the courtyard. "Come _muinthel_ {sister}, the weather is beautiful for a swim!"  
  
The elf maiden was not thrilled with the idea. "Legolas, it might only take you a little while to get freshened up for company, but I take much longer and Lord Elrond of Rivendell is visiting today!"  
  
Legolas would hear nothing of it. "Come ON!" He half dragged his sister to the pond and would have pushed her in if their father hadn't interrupted them.  
  
"Maranwe is right, Legolas. Today, Lord Elrond brings a guest, someone who is very important, even though he does not know it right now." Thranduil had appeared at the edge of the pool just as Legolas reached to push Maranwe into the water.  
  
"Yes, _Ada_ {Father}." The elf prince replied, slight disappointment in his voice.  
  
Thranduil laughed. "You will have plenty of opportunities to push your sister into the water in the future, _ion nin_ {my son}."  
  
Maranwe shot her father a look like daggers. "I'm sure he will, but I hope he thinks twice before doing it." The King laughed and strode off to make sure that everything was prepared for their guests.  
  
Once Thranduil left, Legolas sat down quietly on the edge of the pool. His eyes had darkened and his gaze was distant. The transformation was so sudden, that Maranwe sat beside her brother, concern in her face.  
  
"Legolas? Does something trouble you?"  
  
When the prince did not answer, she gently shook his shoulder. He gasped at the touch and jerked away. Looking at his sister with wide eyes, he swallowed, only now realizing what had just passed before his eyes was not real, but a vision.  
  
Maranwe didn't miss the look in his eyes. "You have foreseen something?"  
  
Legolas nodded. "I do not know, perhaps it was a foresight. I saw shadow...darkness. And then destruction. The Elves being decimated." He paused, trying to find words to describe what he had seen and felt, but was unable to come up with anything. "I do hope this is not a vision of the future, Maranwe. And not just that...I felt I was somehow connected to this."  
  
Maranwe shuddered involuntarily. The hard path her younger brother would walk had been laid out before her many times in her long life. "It is your path, my brother. You must not fear it for it will happen anyway." Smiling now and ruffling his hair she added. "My name might mean destiny, but you are the one with a destiny to fulfill."  
  
He wanted to ask her what she meant; how death and destruction was his path, the sorrow in her green eyes scared him, but she stood and hurried away before he could speak again.  
  
**-END DREAM-**  
  
Now Legolas understood what his sister had known all along. She had somehow foreseen this destruction. Whether she realized what form it would come in or not, Maranwe had known that something was going to happen, something terrible, but not when or where exactly. He knew she had known his part in it and wished more then ever she would have told him her visions. _Why me? What did I do to deserve this evil fate?_  
  
Then, something broke through his thoughts. Someone was calling his name, someone who sounded distant and whose voice was almost indiscernible. _: Legolas, you must wake! :_  
  
It sounded like Aragorn, but it wasn't. But whoever it was; he sounded panicked. Legolas struggled against his unconsciousness, not sure what was needed but determined to help in any way he could. Finally, he forced his eyes open, but his eyelids felt as heavy as steel.  
  
Aragorn had Anduril in hand and was standing over the prince, while Arwen also held a drawn sword in her hand and was protecting Thranduil. Legolas could hear the sounds of metal clashing and the whistle of arrows. They were under attack! His bleary gaze focused on Arwen, who was fighting with a great deal of skill. Her sword twirled through the air at her actions, weaving a net of death around any orcs that tried to get past her to reach Thranduil.  
  
Forcing himself into full consciousness, the elf prince found that Aragorn had laid his bow and knives on the small table beside him. Seeing two orcs charging toward them, Legolas took hold of one of his knives and flung it at the closest orc. The creature halted suddenly, clutching its throat and dropping to the ground.  
  
Aragorn spun on his heel and looked at his friend in awe. "You are awake! We must get out of here!"  
  
Unfortunately, the prince was really in no condition to travel, let alone fight his way out of the building. He glanced at his father; the elder elf was pale and unable to move much in any way. Legolas swore under his breath in Sindarin, drawing a small smile from Aragorn who reached back a hand to help Legolas up.  
  
If moving hurt, then standing hurt much more. He wavered slightly, gripping the bed behind him for support. He knew if he did not gain strength quickly they would all die here. He muttered something in Elvish, surprising Arwen and Thranduil.  
  
"You...?!" She said in awe and would have continued if Legolas hadn't stopped her with the look in his eyes, a look that would allow no arguments.  
  
He nodded lightly, silencing her as he continued the chant. Before her very eyes, he glowed, an ethereal light emanating from his being. Aragorn's attention was on the orcs, and the former ranger did not notice his friend glowing like a star. Arwen swallowed. Legolas could wield Elven magic, and she had never known it.  
  
Neither, it appeared, had Thranduil, whose eyes were bright with awe at the display he had just witnessed. _So that was why Legolas was not affected by the shadow!_ he thought with awe and surprise. His ability to wield this power had given him a stronger degree of protection than most elves had. He looked at his son with renewed hope, knowing that Legolas would be all right.  
  
Soon, Legolas moved away from the bed, standing on his own and not showing pain at all. He notched an arrow into his bow and took down an orc Aragorn had been fighting. His friend looked at him, surprise in his face.  
  
"You can't be standing!"  
  
Legolas smiled lightly, but deflected the questions that he knew would be coming. "Your healing worked well and there are things about me that you do not know." He notched another arrow and let it fly with astonishing speed. It zipped past Aragorn's head and embedded itself in an orc's forehead.  
  
Arwen tugged on Legolas' sleeve. "Come, we must not linger. More will come."  
  
He nodded and with Arwen supporting Thranduil, the four left the room, Aragorn calling to the men from Gondor who were fighting outside. "Retreat! Fall back and we will make for the woods!"  
  
They would have to find horses in order to get away from the orcs. Aragorn noted grimly that their own steeds had been slain by the orcs. Legolas took the lead, running well for someone who was a breath away from death's door only hours before. Aragorn made a mental note to ask him what he'd done later.  
  
"There, the stables. They are my father's private horses." Legolas called, pointing towards a building across the courtyard.  
  
Thranduil smiled, Legolas had always liked riding his steeds. His smile turned quickly to a grimace when he felt blackness ebbing at his vision.  
  
The building did not look like a stable on the outside and it was a good thing it didn't, because otherwise the orcs would have slaughtered the horses inside. Legolas greeted his old friend Arod, easing the horse's fear with soothing elvish words.  
  
There were just enough horses for all the men, and Arwen would ride behind Aragorn on the strongest steed in the stable, Haluneth. Thranduil would ride with Domir of Gondor for Legolas was still too weak to hold him up. The king of Gondor took the lead now, the posse bursting from the stables, trampling the orcs who had followed them.  
  
Soon they were leaving Eryn Lasgalen behind, riding at full gallop for the darkening woods. Legolas couldn't believe the world outside was so dark. He knew that it had something to do with the death of the elves, but he did not know what. It saddened him.  
  
Thranduil, struggling to remain conscious, felt intense pain not just physically, but mentally as well, seeing all his people dead. He let another tear fall for them, and then looked forward, at his son's back. _At least he is alive_.  
  
"I think we have outrun them," Aragorn said, turning to look at Legolas. The elf was pale, far more then usual for his race, and his breathing was slightly labored, but he didn't look too worse for the ride.  
  
He cast his eyes toward Thranduil as well, glad that the king was holding his own.  
  
Of course, Aragorn knew that his Elven friends were very good at hiding their injuries too. They rode a little further until one of the Gondor soldiers, Haldirim, called out in surprise. "My Lord! The prince has lost consciousness!"  
  
Aragorn reined in his horse, turning the creature around just in time to see the man catch Legolas as the elf slipped from the horse. He cursed under his breath. Legolas would never let on he was weakening and it was impossible to tell for oneself with only a casual glance.  
  
"Lay him there," the king said as he too slid from the horse, leaving Arwen to take care of the animal. Rushing over to Legolas, he hurriedly undid the prince's shirt buttons and frowned at the sight of blood quickly soaking through the bandages. "You stubborn elf," he muttered as he undid the ruined bandages and reached for more in his satchel.  
  
Legolas had either heard him, or was jostled awake by the activity around him, for his eyes opened and he jerked at Aragorn's touch. "What?" he asked, with his voice full of confusion.  
  
His friend smiled grimly. "Your wounds have begun bleeding again, Legolas. You should have told me you needed to stop; this will set you back a bit in your healing."  
  
The elf prince frowned now. "I am sorry, Estel but I am accustomed to hiding things of this nature." He looked into the man's eyes, holding his gaze. "You have known me long enough have you not?"  
  
Aragorn's eyes softened. "Yes, I have, Legolas, which is why I will again implore you to trust me and do as I ask. Tell me next time you feel this coming, or Haldirim may not be there to catch you."  
  
He heard his name again, this time in regards to Thranduil, who had lapsed into unconsciousness. He frowned. There was nothing he could do for the elf lord; he would have to be strong.  
  
Legolas looked worried. "Will he make it?" He was staring at his father, fear in his eyes. Legolas didn't know if he could bear the loss of any more of his family. His mother had passed over into Valinor long ago, and his beloved sister had just been killed, and now his father was hovering near death. Aragorn's hand fell to his shoulder.  
  
"Yes, but he will need to travel to Valinor to be healed. His wound is beyond human healing, he needs to be with his people."  
  
The elf prince's eyes softened. "Then I may truly be the last Silvan left on Middle-Earth." Aragorn did not reply.

* * *

_In the Misty Mountains..._  
  
"Ah, now that the orcs and Uruks have decimated the elves, it is time to begin planning the fall of Men," Graelath laughed, giddy as a child at his plan's success. "They never knew what hit them!"  
  
He was unaware that the king and prince of Eryn Lasgalen were riding toward Gondor, one in possession of the Elven magic he so feared. "I will begin my destruction of men with Rohan. King Eomer and his people will easily submit to my spell, as did Théoden to Saruman!"  
  
He poured over his maps of Middle-Earth, found the direction he needed and hurried out to the top of his tower, much as Saruman used to do. Raising his arms and facing the direction of Edoras, the heart of Rohan, Graelath began to chant in a language no one had heard in ages.  
  
It sounded coarse, as the Black Speech of Mordor had sounded, but it was not the same. It was a language that had rarely been spoken in Middle-Earth before. "_Arth gollem i illiarn, morgurl maach nerleth_ {Let shadow befall them, hiding my armies}!" he cried, continuing for many long minutes until he was sure his spell had begun to take effect.  
  
"It is only a matter of time before they will be under my net, caught in a shadow that will hide the threat of my armies! Just... like... the... elves!"  
  
He cackled as he returned to his tower, making note to repeat the spell every day at the same hour.

* * *

_Meanwhile..._  
  
The night drew near and the group had stopped to set up camp. The men were tired and bloody from the battle and they were all hungry. Legolas alone seemed to be content to just sit and stare at the stars in the sky.  
  
While Middle-Earth was darkening and dying with the loss of the elves, the stars did not waiver for an instant. Legolas smiled to himself, feeling at ease when he gazed at the stars. Elves loved the night sky with its peace and tranquility.  
  
He was so immersed in studying the heavens that he did not hear nor feel Aragorn approaching. "_Mellon nin_?" The king said, stooping down and putting a hand on the elf's shoulder. "You should try to eat something."  
  
Legolas looked down from the sky and into Aragorn's eyes, seeing worry in the silver orbs. "Thank you, Estel." He glanced to his father for moment, seeing the elder elf awake. Arwen was helping him to drink something. He was worried about his father, but knew that the king was in good hands.  
  
He took the proffered bowl of stew and quietly spooned it into his mouth. It was hot and seasoned with rich spices. Inwardly, Legolas knew that Arwen had prepared it for it could only taste this good if made by a woman.  
  
Aragorn sat beside his friend, his eyes also seeking out the heavens. "You know? Even as the world grows dark, it lightens my heart to see the stars. Earendil shines bright upon us tonight."  
  
Legolas nodded, shifting when his wounds became uncomfortable. "You are right. But as long as I live I will implore this world to continue living. Wherever I go, I will speak to the land and ask it to flourish."  
  
Aragorn's eyes shone. His friend really was special. Perhaps now was the time to ask Legolas about himself. "Please, you said there is much about you we do not know. Enlighten me, my Elven friend."  
  
For a moment, it looked as though the prince would not speak.  
  
"Yes, enlighten me too, _ion nin_ {my son}," his father said, startling Legolas and Aragorn, who spun to see the elf looking at them.  
  
Legolas sighed and put down the bowl and spoon. Glancing at Aragorn, he cast his eyes up to the sky and spoke. "I have always possessed the power to do magic, I learnt of it as a small child."  
  
**-FLASHBACK-**  
  
"Legolas! Come back here! The forest is no place for a young elf to be alone!" His father called to the young prince, hoping the anger in his voice would scare Legolas into returning. They had just had an argument; the prince did not understand why he could not go out with the other boys on the hunt.  
  
His father had tried to impress upon him his importance, being the prince and heir to the throne of Mirkwood and that he was still too young. But the boy would have nothing of it. _I am not going back_, the young elf chanted to himself as he hurried through the ever-darkening woods.  
  
Soon he was far from the city, nearing the border of Mirkwood. He would need to get past the border guards if he wanted to truly get away, but being the son of the King he knew when the changing of guard took place and knew he could slip through at that time.  
  
_Why do I have to stay behind when all the others can go and have a good time?_ He asked himself in frustration. His long blonde hair hung over his shoulders; it still did not hold any warrior braids and that embarrassed him.  
  
He saw his opportunity to flee and hurried past the two guards as they traded news. Smiling to himself, he thought, _If I can get past the border guards of Mirkwood, I can survive a hunt_.  
  
He continued through the dark forest, unaware of all the dangers it possessed. He had never traveled this far from home before and he began to wonder if this was the wisest of his rash decisions.  
  
Nonetheless, the boy trekked on. Then, he came to a grinding halt. His keen eyes could make out two glowing yellow eyes in the bushes about a thousand feet ahead of him. Though the creature was silent, the boy knew it was watching him.  
  
He reached for his bow and drew in a sharp breath. He did not have his bow; he had left it in the throne room when he had argued with his father. Rarely was he without it, and now when he needed it most he did not have it.  
  
_Great, Legolas. What a prince you are...you forget your bow and now you're about to be attacked in the forest, all alone!_ For a moment he almost gave into the thought that his father might be right, hunts were too dangerous for him.  
  
But the thought left his head quickly as the yellow eyes erupted from the bushes and rapidly drew near. Fear boiled in the young prince and he put up his hands in defense, waiting for the bite of teeth. When nothing happened, he opened his eyes and was shocked to see the creature had stopped a few feet from him, its eyes watching him warily. It was one of the giant spiders that had slowly begun to take over the southern reaches of the forest.  
  
_Why does it not attack?_ he wondered. Suddenly the creature lunged, and at the same moment, a gentle voice sounded in his mind. Legolas didn't know who was whispering to him, but he knew instinctively to echo the words and so he did, speaking in Elvish, following the voice in his head. He didn't recognize the words nor did he yet know the significance of them.  
  
As he spoke, the ground began to tremble and crack. Legolas could not understand what was happening, but he continued to speak words he had never heard before. Suddenly, a great rift appeared directly beneath the creature and it fell into the ground. As soon as it had disappeared from sight, Legolas stopped speaking and the ground snapped closed.  
  
Legolas was panting now, unable to grasp what he had just done. He looked at his hands, still stretched before him, and back up at where the creature had been standing moments before. Somehow, he had done that, he had conjured magic and killed the beast. But how, he did not know.  
  
The voice sounded in his head again. _: Go home, young Prince. :_ Hurrying back the way he had come, Legolas ran back home, determined to keep his secret.  
  
**-END FLASHBACK-**  
  
"I kept the secret my whole life. For almost two thousand years, no one knew I possessed Elven magic, not even my father." The prince stopped for a moment, locking eyes with his father. "I do not believe even Lord Elrond knew."  
  
While the others regained their composure after the shocking story, Legolas inwardly wondered if he should mention the voice that had told him what to say, for he had glossed over that part of his story. This last time, when he had healed himself, he had known what to say without aid, but when he had been younger, he had heard the voice telling him the proper words.  
  
To this day, he knew not who had spoken, nor the origin of the words he spoke. He knew they were Elvish, but they were not Sindarin, that was certain. He suspected that they might be Quenya, but there were few of the Sindarin elves that still spoke the High Tongue, so he had no one to ask.  
  
Aragorn shook his head in awe, drawing Legolas' attention to him. "Well a great gift this is you bear, _mellon nin_. Why have you not used it?"  
  
Legolas took a deep breath. "Elven magic is not something to use lightly. I probably could wield it whenever I wanted, but I wouldn't dream of using the power unless it was a last resort. I did not use it during our Quest to destroy the Ring, not because I could not, but because I was not supposed to. I often wonder if I could have saved Boromir."  
  
Aragorn could understand the turmoil he could see in his friend's eyes. "Do not think like that. You are right, my question was foolish. You can not use this gift idly, my friend. You are not responsible for anyone's death."  
  
A small spread across Legolas' face. "I feared for a moment you would not understand, but I see you do. I am glad we are friends, Estel, for I have held this secret long enough." He paused before continuing, wanting to get everything out in the open after years of holding it in. "When we met with Lady Galadriel, she spoke in my mind." He shivered a little at the thought. "She told me she knew of my gift, and she told me I must not use it during the Quest because it had to be finished only by the strength of the people, and not by magic."  
  
Laying a hand on Legolas' shoulder, the king of Gondor nodded and smiled. "It makes sense. If you were to have used magic, the people of Middle-Earth might not have had reason to join together in peace and alliance. The world would be a different place today." He smiled, glad that Legolas had finally confided in him. "Remember you can share anything with me, _mellon nin_... especially your injuries."  
  
Legolas shot a fierce look at his friend, but it quickly dissolved into a smile. "Perhaps."  
  
Thranduil had been listening the whole time, still surprised that his son possessed this great power. Inside, he had always known Legolas was important, maybe that was why he coddled him, to no avail. He made a mental note to explain his ways to his son before leaving for Valinor. 


	4. Attack in the Night

**_Reviewers answers....for chapters 1-3...   
_**  
**Elfwomen:** Glad you liked it...but since you read before the revisions, there's new scenes and everything!  
  
**Deana:** Thank you so much for your reviews and kind words! Nobody: Glad you liked it...you got a preview of the whole thing, but this are changing with the revisions!  
  
**Aragornwriter (San):** You are so good to me! With all your beautiful words and all! Thanks for hanging in there with me for this story!

**Gozilla:** Mmmm...thanks, glad you think it's excellent.

**ElleMorko:** You made me blush! One of the top ten LOTR fics you've read? I'm flattered! I'm revising; there are new scenes in the early chapters....enjoy!  
  
**Eep:** Thanks for the review and THANK You for helping me remove my head from my (& and telling me posting 20 chapters is NOT such a good idea!! I have taken them off and am revising and reposting!

**Pirate Gyrl:** You're so good to me! Not just one review, but MORE THAN one...I feel so flattered that you like this story so much! I like yours as well! I'll try to post regularly!  
  
**Fox-Demon-Girl:** Thanks.  
  
**Zammy:** I'll try to update regularly!  
  
**Silvertoekee:** Thanks for the kind words, yes the Elves' deaths were a tragedy...but at least many had already left for the Undying Lands. AND YES...Graelath is a tyrant and very greedy...I won't tell you WHAT he'll do now, but I promise you'll see within a few chapters!   
  
**Tonianne:** Great adjectives to describe my story! I'm thrilled!  
  
**Arayelle Lynn:** Yep...Leggy's magic in this one! You'll see it in action soon!  
  
**Jedi Cosmos:** Yeh, not holding back...I'm killing a lot of Elves here! Thanks for reviewing. 

* * *

**_Chapter 4: Attack in the Night_**  
  
The night dragged on slowly, each person locked in their own thoughts, the camp eerily quiet. Legolas had fallen asleep, his breathing slow and even as his body healed itself. His sleep was deeper then usual and even he did not hear the approaching danger.  
  
Domir, standing guard since the sun had gone down, was the first to hear the threat. He jumped to his feet, eyes straining against the dark to see what was approaching. When he could not, he ran back to the main part of camp and called for the king.  
  
Aragorn immediately awoke and shook the sleep from his eyes. "What? What is it Domir?"  
  
The man, breathless from running, managed to say, "I hear something, but I can not see what."  
  
His shout had awoken Legolas as well. The prince shot to a sitting position, wincing in pain as he felt the tender skin of his torso and shoulder pull painfully. He hoped he hadn't opened anything up again.  
  
Casting his eyes around, he could discern shapes moving toward the camp. "It looks like orcs," the prince said, struggling to get to his feet. He was surprised when a pair of arms pulled him up. Spinning, his eyes met Arwen's and she smiled.  
  
Nodding his thanks, Legolas carefully began strapping his weapons to his back. Aragorn eyed him, but the look he received in return from the prince closed the door to any arguments. "How many do you think there are, Legolas?"  
  
The prince shrugged. "I can not say exactly. But it does not look good." He pulled back on the string of his bow, testing to see if he would be able to wield it. His range of motion was greatly diminished but he would fight nonetheless.  
  
Aragorn turned to Arwen. "I know you are strong and fearless, but I would feel much better if you were further from the fight." He watched as she drew her sword, but motioned toward the horses and King Thranduil. "Please, do me this favor and fight only if necessary. Protect Legolas' father."  
  
Arwen sighed in frustration. "If you tried to coddle Legolas like this, he would have your head," she muttered. Her phrase didn't escape her husband's ears, even as he helped Thranduil to a standing position and over to Haluneth.  
  
"Yes," he answered. "He would, but you will not! Besides, the King is too weak to move, let alone fight. He needs you." Moving swiftly, Aragorn helped Thranduil onto the horse's back, gripping the elf's leg to hold him in place until Arwen could mount behind him.  
  
The woman smiled and turned to mount the horse. "Don't you dare die on me, Estel! I would be forced to take drastic measures."  
  
There was no more time for talking; the orcs began to stream into the camp. Legolas, though he was hindered by his injuries, let arrows fly in astonishing succession. Orcs began to fall. The men of Gondor rallied around their Queen for the most part, slashing and stabbing the vile creatures within their reach, leaving only three men to fight with Legolas and Aragorn.  
  
Arwen frowned at the number of men around her, knowing that this was Aragorn's doing. She'd have to speak to him about it later. Thranduil could only watch in horror as the small group battled an ever increasing enemy. He had not had the chance to fight with his son often and he was amazed at how much the prince had grown, how much his skills had improved.  
  
Seeing an orc behind Legolas, Aragorn let out a shout and ran toward his friend, pushing the elf prince aside and blocking a savage swing by the orc. Swords clashed in a loud metallic clang and Aragorn quickly sliced the orc's head from its body.  
  
Muttering thanks, Legolas notched another arrow and sent it careening into an orc that had broken off from the rest and had been heading toward Arwen and Thranduil. The Queen nodded in thanks to the prince who grimaced and turned back to the fight.  
  
"For every one we kill, two take it's place!" One of the men cried, thrusting his sword into the belly of an orc. He didn't move quickly enough and his arm made contact with a blade. He cried out in pain and fury, holding his arm against his body as he continued to fight.  
  
Aragorn, meanwhile, had seen the leader of the orcs approaching. He saw the look the Uruk gave Legolas, a look of surprise and blinding anger. The Uruk raised his bow.  
  
Looking around, Aragorn spotted the elf prince, using his knives now, fighting a particularly ugly orc. He knew he wouldn't reach the prince in time so he shouted in Elvish. "Legolas, behind you! The leader!"  
  
Hearing Aragorn's shout, Legolas sped up, thrusting one of his twin blades into the orc's chest, pushing him off the blade with his foot. Spinning around, he saw the Uruk who had attacked him.  
  
A feeling of deja vu washed over him and he heard rather then saw the arrow flying through the air. Sidestepping, he hoped he would avoid the weapon, but knew he had not moved quick enough when he felt something hit his hip.  
  
Luckily for him, there wasn't much for the arrow to imbed itself in, it had hit the bone and come to a grinding halt, even though it still knocked him back a few paces and made the prince grimace in pain. Undeterred, Legolas notched an arrow and let it fly, straight at the Uruk's head.  
  
The creature moved astonishingly fast for his species and managed to avoid a full shot to the head. The elf's arrow glanced off his head, cutting him, but not killing him. Swearing furiously to himself, Legolas notched another arrow, but frowned when his arrow flew at the same time as the Uruk's.  
  
"Damn," he said, feeling another biting blow, this time to his upper arm. It was a flesh wound, grazing his arm, but not embedding itself; obviously his first shot had disoriented the beast. He looked up at the Uruk and smiled. His second arrow had flown true, impacting the creature in the heart and taking him down.  
  
Aragorn breathed a sigh of relief, he had seen the duel. Unfortunately, he had also been lax in paying attention. A searing, white-hot pain erupted across his back and he cried out.  
  
Spinning, he faced another Uruk, this one armed with a broadsword. The sword was tinged red with the king's blood. Angry at himself for being caught unawares, Aragorn swung furiously at the Uruk, only to be blocked.  
  
He tried again, feeling the wound on his back stretch and pull at the action. Grimacing, he stepped back a step, feinted to the left and then spun, attacking the creature on the right side. It didn't work.  
  
Growling a little, he blocked another blow aimed for his head and then heard a familiar sound. An arrow, with gold and green feathers, hit the Uruk in the shoulder and the creature's screech rang out.  
  
Taking advantage of the moment's lapse, Aragorn drew his dagger from his belt and jammed it into the Uruk's chest, black blood spilling down his forearms. The cry of fury that erupted from the Uruk chilled the king's blood. Grabbing the man by the throat, the Uruk held him in front of his face, ready to take a bite of a tasty human morsel.  
  
Suddenly, the Uruk's head slipped to the side and clean off its neck. Aragorn saw Arwen, still atop the horse, her sword slick with black blood in one hand, her other arm wrapped firmly around Thranduil's chest, holding him in place in front of her. She had sliced the creature's head off.  
  
Aragorn hit the ground, forgetting that the Uruk had been suspending him when it died, and bit back a cry of pain at the jolt. Nodding his thanks to Arwen, making a mental note to ask her how in the world she had gotten loose from the guards, he continued to fight, risking a glance to Legolas, who was obviously tiring.  
  
His attention was ripped away from the elf when he heard a strangled scream. Spinning on his heel, batting away an orc blade as he did so, Aragorn saw Domir fall to the ground, a dark arrow in his chest.  
  
The man's breath gurgled as he pitched forward and lay still, blood spreading across the ground from the fatal wound. Aragorn shouted in fury, for his men were dying, even though the world was supposed to be peaceful after the destruction of the One Ring.  
  
Legolas saw the man fall and swallowed. He felt a rush of guilt at the man's death; after all, the group had set out to save him and his people. Swinging a vicious blow at the nearest orc, Legolas suddenly saw a new wave of orcs approaching fast. They could not win this fight as it was.  
  
His eyes cleared. He knew what he had to do and it felt right this time. He stood in the midst of the orcs, hearing the all too familiar whispering in his mind, and began to chant in Elvish. Aragorn heard him and exchanged a glance with Arwen, whose mouth was agape. Thranduil watched in growing fascination.  
  
Suddenly, the wind began to pick up and whip through the forest in a frenzy. His hair blowing in his face did not stop Legolas' words. The orcs now slowed to a halt, unsure of what to make of the elf prince and this new devilry.  
  
Raising his hands, Legolas changed his chant slightly and all of a sudden, lighting crackled in the sky. Elves didn't just use magic; they used it to wield the elements. Legolas called the lightning down and it struck the largest group of orcs, burning them to ashes.  
  
Seeing the plight of their comrades, the remaining orcs retreated back into the woods. The men and Aragorn watched as they ran. Arwen reached Legolas first, knowing that the use of magic was draining.  
  
"_Mellon nin_," she whispered as she caught her friend before he hit the ground. She could feel blood oozing from his wounds, the use of his magic had taken away from his healing. She frowned. "I am glad you saved us, but you did it at the expense of your own health, Legolas."  
  
A weak smile crossed his face. "I could not let the King of Gondor fall, nor could I die myself, Arwen." He managed to somehow stay conscious long enough for Aragorn to reach his side. "We are safe now," he muttered as he fell into blackness.


	5. Explosions and Explanations

**Reviewer Responses to Chapter 4...**  
  
**Kelsey**: Okay...my villain will be revealed all in good time! Be patient and you shall have all the villain information you could EVER want! :-) I can't give it all up right away...I like suspense, it's my best friend! My beta and I recall reading somewhere that Legolas referred to himself as "Silvan", though I do not doubt he was Sindarin if you say so. I'll give you the benefit of the doubt; I have not read The Unfinished Tales. (This is my first fic...I barely finished the Lord of the Rings and haven't read The Silmarillion.) AND as for the boy thing...OOPS?? :-) I write VERY fast...which is how you get posts VERY fast! I'll try not to do it again!  
  
**Silvertoekee: **Again, thanks for your review...yes they DO seem to have a lot of trouble with Orcs...and it will undoubtedly continue!!  
  
**Note**: There are a great many references in this chapter to The Silmarillion, specifically the chapter about Beren and Luthien. It is not necessary to have read this chapter, but for those who have, hopefully you will not be too confused. For those who have not read this particular chapter of the book, my beta and I have tried to explain who all the characters mentioned are, but in case you still have trouble following, just go with the flow, for The Silmarillion characters are not the important part of this chapter.

* * *

**Chapter 5: Explosions and Explanations  
  
**_Later that night..._  
  
Aragorn and Arwen were sitting beside the fire, taking in low tones with each other while Legolas slept off to the side. The men and their King and Queen had erected a bier to send their comrades off.  
  
Now they waited for Legolas to wake before the quick send off. "He should not have used his magic," Aragorn was saying, shaking his head sadly. "He has only managed to slow his Elven healing."   
  
His wife begged to differ. "Estel, he felt it was right. You could see it in his eyes. He had to do this; he knew that neither you nor he could afford to die. He was right and this was the only way. We were greatly outnumbered and tiring."   
  
Leave it to Arwen to voice reason. Aragorn chuckled. "I guess you are right, as usual my love. You have not lost your wisdom."   
  
The two turned at the sound of a light groan to find Legolas sitting up and shaking his head. "I haven't used my magic in so long, I forgot how draining it is," he muttered. Bringing himself to his knees, he remembered his new wounds. His eyes snapped to his upper arm and he let out a breath. The wound was neatly dressed.   
  
"You didn't really think I would let your wounds bleed unattended while I sat here and waited for you to grace us with your presence," Aragorn chided, barely able to restrain a smile.  
  
"I suppose not," Legolas answered standing and stretching tentatively. "But you were injured as well and I will bet my life you have not allowed anyone to touch you."  
  
Arwen gasped. "Estel!? You are injured?"   
  
_How has no one noticed?_ Legolas thought in surprise. Then it hit him, Aragorn had donned a dark-colored cloak, hiding the bloody tunic he wore. "Very intuitive, my friend, but you have not hidden the wound from me; I heard your cry in battle."   
  
Arwen had eyes like daggers. "Why didn't you tell me? How could you? You are just as bad as he is," she thrust her finger in Legolas' direction to make her point. Her outburst took Aragorn by surprise and his eyes darkened.  
  
"What's gotten into you, Arwen? You never bark at me like that, it's just a scratch!" He countered, letting his own nerves get the better of him.  
  
Her voice had gone icy cold. "A scratch!? I don't think so, Estel. Scratches with you are mortal wounds with any normal man! Why must you always hide these things?" By now the whole camp was nervously eying the King and Queen. Legolas was in such shock at the argument that he was unable to speak.  
  
"Oh...let's not talk about me for a minute! You think I endanger myself needlessly? I am a warrior, Arwen! Why did you leave the safety of your guards during the battle? And just how did you get past three-quarters of the men!?" Estel's voice was raised now and Legolas stared at him with his mouth agape, never having heard the king get so angry with Arwen before.  
  
"How dare you!" Arwen fumed, still speaking in a low tone but one edged with ice. "I saved your life! And you thank me for it by chiding me from leaving the safety of the guards? I was trained by my brothers, just as you were! I can take care of myself, Estel!" That said, the Queen stormed off to where she had left her blanket, momentarily checking on a sleeping Thranduil before staring off into the darkness.   
  
Aragorn moved to go to her, but Legolas, shaken from his surprise, held him back. "Let her be, Estel. And let me attend to your wound."  
  
The former ranger looked about to argue, but remembered he had chided Legolas earlier not to hide his injuries; it would be unfair for him to do just that now. "All right, my supplies are over there. I wonder what has gotten into her?!" He was still angry, but piping down a little.   
  
To his surprise, Legolas did not fetch his supplies, merely uncovered the wound and sighed. "I need no supplies, _mellon nin_." But Aragorn spun toward him and shook his head.  
  
"Just this one time, please use them. You are still too weak from your magic and healing yourself, I do not wish you to drain anymore of your strength."  
  
Legolas looked to the ground and gave in. "All right, but only this once. I hate to cause you pain, which I will do by using your herbs." He stood again and rummaged through the medicinal herbs, looking for the ones he would need.  
  
He could feel Arwen's gaze on him as he pulled off Aragorn's shirt. The wound was scabbed and bright red from rubbing on the fabric of the king's shirt. Legolas frowned. "You did not even clean it. It has scabbed over already and I will need to remove the clot to clean beneath them."  
  
Estel sighed. "Yes, I know. I am a stubborn man, much like my best friend..." His voice trailed off, leaving Legolas to fill in the rest. Smiling, the elf began mixing the herbs.  
  
Rubbing the wound with a clean cloth, he was able to loosen the scabbed blood, though it pained him to hear Aragorn wince and see his body stiffen in pain. "Easy, Estel. The scabs are gone, I only need to clean a bit more before I put the salve on it and bandage it."   
  
The man relaxed only a little, pain still scorching his back as his friend gently spread the herbal salve on his wound. He ground his teeth to hold back any cries, not wanting to worry his men further for they were looking on as the elf prince worked.  
  
"Legolas?" the man said, getting his friend's attention. "Do you speak Quenya?"  
  
Frowning as he worked, Legolas shook his head and answered. "No, it is never spoken in my father's court. It is a rather dead language, at least as far as my people are concerned Aragorn. Only the Noldor still use it to some extent, as far as I know, but you would know better than I."  
  
The king was surprised. "Well, you were chanting in Quenya, _mellon nin_. Somehow, you do know it."  
  
The Elf balked. "I was speaking Quenya? I suspected as much, but did not realize it. All these years I wondered what I was speaking, I knew it was not Sindarin. I wonder how I can chant in a language I do not understand." He still was not willing to mention the voice he had heard; he didn't want his friends to think he was crazy.  
  
"I know not," Aragorn answered, offering no more on the subject as he tried to hold back any signs of pain.  
  
"There, now slowly lift your arms so I might bandage this," Legolas said, holding the roll of cloth out. Aragorn did as he was told, scrunching his nose at the sensation of tender skin being pulled taunt. Legolas was gentle though, wrapping the bandage skillfully. "You are done, next time do not wait for help, as you so strongly pointed out to me earlier."   
  
Estel repositioned his shirt and eyed the elf. "Yes, so I see my good council has been remembered."  
  
Legolas nodded slightly, looking over at Arwen and his father. He frowned, moving over to where the elf lord lay, his breathing shallow and his face paler then normal. Reaching a hand out, Legolas recoiled when he felt the temperature of his father.  
  
"He is feverish," the prince said. Looking to Arwen, he asked, "How long has he been this bad?"  
  
She grimaced. "Too long, he is losing his battle. He needs to get to Valinor and soon."  
  
Legolas shook his head. "We are still a long journey from the harbor. I must help him, at least a little." Aragorn had come over and caught the last sentence.  
  
"_Mellon nin_, you are still too weak. He will last a little longer without your help. Eat something, and then aid him." The king held out a bowl of food, beckoning the prince to take it. He noticed that Arwen's demeanor had completed reversed and she was back to her normal self. For the moment. _I really must find out what is up with her._  
  
Acquiescing, Legolas took the proffered bowl and smiled lightly. "My father is strong; I can not fathom how he did not know a threat approached Eryn Lasgalen."  
  
He saw his friend's eyes widen. Aragorn had forgotten that the prince was unconscious when Thranduil explained what he thought had happened. The king wasted no time filling in Legolas on what the elf lord had said.  
  
"So that is why I felt strangely unwilling to press my father, the spell was beginning to take a hold on me as well." Legolas looked into the distance, his Elven eyes focusing on nothing in particular. "A spell of this power must have been cast by someone very strong."  
  
Aragorn nodded. "I wish Gandalf were here, he might know of someone strong enough to do this."  
  
He was interrupted by Arwen, who spoke slowly. "Perhaps someone here knows who this is."  
  
Thranduil was awake and his eyes were shining with some sort of recognition. "Mentioning Gandalf jogged my memory," the king said quietly, trying to keep his voice from breaking. "You remember the tale of the dark wizard, Graelath?" His question was directed at Legolas.  
  
The prince balked. "Yes of course, it was legend. A myth told through many a generation."  
  
Thranduil took a deep breath, as deep as he could manage. "The tale was not a myth, though it was often told to be one. Graelath did exist; no one knows what became of him, only that no one saw him die."  
  
Aragorn knew that Thranduil was too weak to tell this tale, so he turned to Legolas, "Please, enlighten me again, _mellon nin_. Who is this Graelath?"  
  
Leaning back, making sure he did not disturb any wounds, Legolas nodded. "Well, I won't say I know much about him, just the basic facts. Graelath was the Black Wizard of a Great Council, not the same Council as the Istari, an older one from the First Age. He fell from grace and into madness after his family and the remains of his race were destroyed in a wolf attack."  
  
"His race?" Aragorn prompted.  
  
"Yes," Legolas answered. "The Ethaim were an immortal race, similar to Elves but resembling humans. They had their own language, I hear, that allowed them to use magic. Though not all of them were of Graelath's caliber."  
  
Arwen interjected a bit as well. "If I remember correctly what _Ada_ mentioned of the Ethaim, they never were very large a race in Middle-Earth, which is why one attack wiped them all out."  
  
Legolas nodded. "Yes. Anyway, the Great Council, under the leadership of Gorgof the White at the time, decided it was necessary to remove Graelath's staff. The staff allowed him to perform far more magic then just his native tongue did. It gave him great power and in the hands of a madman blinded by grief, that was a dangerous combination."  
  
Sighing, Legolas paused in his story-telling, making sure his father was still with them, looking for a nod of approval, which he got. "The story goes on that when the Wizards of the Council arrived at the dwelling of the Black Wizard to remove his staff, he was no where to be found. None of the greatest of Seers in all of Middle-Earth was able to find him."  
  
Aragorn frowned. "So this man, this immortal, was never found?"   
  
Legolas nodded. "Yes, he was never found. The Elves have long told stories of his power, not his power for evil, for that was never really seen. But of his power for good, which was great until his fall."  
  
Thranduil interjected his opinion here. "Though the stories are of his good, imagining that power in the hands of a Dark Lord is very disturbing."  
  
Aragorn asked Legolas to tell one of the stories of the man's good, to demonstrate just what they might be up against, should Graelath indeed prove to be the one who had done this. Legolas nodded in agreement, racking his brain for the best story to tell.  
  
Then he had it. "The wolves of Isengard were cruel and vicious, as I'm certain you will remember. But they were nothing compared to a great wolf of the First Age. Carcharoth, bred to kill Huan, the great hound of Valinor, and the loyal guardian of Beren and Luthien."  
  
**FLASHBACK  
**  
Lady Galadriel knew there were perils here, things that could maim or kill her, yet she still walked unarmed and unattended through the woods that surrounded Doriath, where she dwelled with her husband, Celeborn, for they were her home. She was deep in the territory of the Elves, where she was safest.  
  
It did not occur to her that she might be attacked without warning, for elves were of sound hearing and sight. It was not an easy task to surprise an elf and Galadriel was a very strong elf in her own right, which is why she was unprepared for Carcharoth. The great wolf, bred for one purpose and driven mad by the power of the Silmaril that he had taken from Beren son of Barahir, normally would not bother with an elf, but this one was alone, vulnerable. Perhaps just this once he would deter from his mission and toy with someone.  
  
Leaping from the shadows of nearby bushes, Carcharoth landed in front of Galadriel, howling loudly as he did so. Galadriel fell back, surprised and frightened at the large wolf before her. She stood up to run but stopped, as she looked around, her blue eyes widening.  
  
The wolf's call had brought forth a gang of his followers, smaller in stature, but mean nonetheless. They eyed the elf maiden with hunger and wariness. These wolves were not stupid; they knew elves were formidable foes.  
  
But Galadriel was unarmed. Carcharoth moved forward, swatting at the lady with his great claws. A red line appeared on her otherwise unmarred skin, oozing blood. She reached up in shock, never having suffered an injury before.  
  
Carcharoth rather liked this reaction and moving forward, he knocked her to the ground and stood over her. Suddenly, there was a voice from the outside of the circle of wolves. "Let her be, beast, for she is not a toy for you to mishandle."  
  
Galadriel looked up from where she had fallen. Her eyes came to rest on a man, hooded and cloaked, with a black staff in his hand. The man must have been a wizard; that much she could tell, but she could see no other features. However, she had no idea what he was doing in Doriath, which was protected by the spells of the Maia Melian, wife of King Thingol.  
  
The wolf howled mockingly at the wizard and his gang began to close in on the wizard, blocking his path to Galadriel. Carcharoth watched with satisfaction in his eyes. His wolves would take care of this man.  
  
But he was wrong. The wizard raised his staff and began to speak. Galadriel had expected a tongue of men, maybe even elvish, but she did not recognize what he was saying. She was well versed in languages and was surprised to not know that which the man spoke.  
  
Her eyes widened when the wolves that had advanced on the wizard were suddenly immobile. Their eyes were wide with fright and they whimpered piteously, whining that they could not move.  
  
Galadriel watched in growing fascination as the wizard advanced on the frozen wolves. Suddenly, he lifted his hands and the animals went flying in every direction, many of them hitting the ground and breaking their necks.  
  
Seeing the others thrown, many of them destroyed, enraged Carcharoth. He was about to leap forward and kill his captive when the wizard focused on him, immobilizing him. Galadriel took this opportunity to run to the wizard, who shoed her in the direction he had come.  
  
"It is not my destiny to slay you, Carcharoth." The wizard whispered, releasing the monster from his spell. "It is theirs." He pointed toward the West and they both perceived Beren and Huan, the great hound of Valinor and loyal guardian of Beren and Luthien, traveling along with King Thingol and two others.  
  
Carcharoth, seeing his real quarry, ran off toward them, leaving Graelath, the Black Wizard, to bring Galadriel back to her people.  
  
**END FLASHBACK  
**  
"The elves were forever grateful, as you could well guess. Beren and Huan were slain during the engagement with Carcharoth, but the great wolf was also killed, defeated by both of their great sacrifices. Their tale is well known, while the tale of the rescue of Galadriel is only known to elves."  
  
Legolas smiled at his father's expression. The king was enjoying the story. At least it was keeping him conscious.  
  
Aragorn breathed deeply. "This is disturbing to say the least," he said. "If this wizard possesses such a power, he will not be easy to defeat. My heart is heavy at this news."  
  
Legolas put a hand on his friend's shoulder. "We will figure something out. Remember, that we have a magic of our own as well. Elven magic is powerful, when wielded right; it may be enough for our purpose."  
  
Thranduil suddenly looked at Aragorn. "Aragorn how is it that you and Lady Arwen were even in Eryn Lasgalen at the time of the attack?"  
  
Legolas looked startled as well, the thought not having occurred to him. "Do tell, _mellon nin_. I too would like to know the reason behind your timely arrival."  
  
Aragorn sighed. "Well, about a week and a half ago, Arwen received a letter from Maranwe, asking us to come and lend aid, for she had sensed the shadow that you described _hir nin_ {my lord}."  
  
Thranduil and Legolas looked surprised at this. Arwen continued softly. "She spoke of having had two visions of the destruction of Eryn Lasgalen, but she didn't dare mention them to either of you, because there were no overt signs that anything was wrong. So, in order to come and examine the situation for ourselves, we decided to disguise our intentions with a state visit, figuring that if the threat was real, and dire enough, we could send for more aid."  
  
Thranduil simply nodded, pondering these events; while Legolas looked...well, almost angry.  
  
Aragorn laid a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Legolas?"  
  
"Why didn't she tell me?" Legolas asked. "We always could tell each other anything, and I even told her my fears that the city would be attacked, but all she said was that I worry too much!" Legolas slammed his fist on the ground in frustration. "She knew all along, and yet she didn't tell me!"  
  
The elf prince hung his head, and stifled a sob, mourning for his beloved sister. "Why Maranwe, _muinthel nin_ {my sister}? Why didn't you tell me?"  
  
Arwen immediately stood and came over to where the prince sat. Kneeling down, she pulled Legolas into her arms in a strangely maternal gesture, laying his head on her shoulder, and slowly rubbing circles on his back as he cried for the sister who had protected him and cared for him all their lives, only to be snatched away from him because he failed to reach her in time.  
  
Aragorn just sat there, unable to think of anything to say, staring at his best friend in shock. Never before had he seen Legolas break down like this. The elf had always been the steady, unchanging rock for Aragorn to rest on when things were tough, and now, when his friend needed him, Aragorn didn't know what to do.  
  
Arwen murmured soothingly to her friend. "_Sîdh_, Legolas, _sîdh_ {Peace, Legolas, peace}. Maranwe did everything that she could, and she managed to warn us in time for us to arrive and save you and your father. The shadow likely overtook her as well. Remember that she was actually living in Eryn Lasgalen, and was likely being slowly overcome by it from the beginning, but somehow fought it to a point, until she couldn't fight any longer." Arwen said, choking back tears of her own. Now was not the time, Legolas needed her. There would be a time for her to grieve for her friend later, when she was safe in Aragorn's arms, but now she had to devote her attention to Legolas.  
  
Aragorn finally found his voice as he leaned forward carefully and enfolded Legolas and Arwen into his grasp. "Legolas, you told me once that your sister would die to protect you, remember?" When Legolas nodded, Aragorn continued. "She fulfilled her promise, Legolas. She fought like a hero for you, braver than any warrior that I've known, because she was fighting something that wasn't tangible, couldn't be seen, or slain with a physical weapon. Love and loyalty were the only weapons she had, and she fought for you, and for your father, and for all your people, and she won, Legolas. She got all of you the aid that you desperately needed, and she saved your life and your father's life by her actions."  
  
Legolas sobbed again, but he was at least listening. His sobs slowly began to ease, until he was simply kneeling on the ground, his body trembling as it was held in Aragorn and Arwen's firm grip. Finally, he pushed back against them slightly, and they released him. He looked at each of them, his eyes red from crying, and managed a shaky smiled. "_Hannon le, mellyn nin_ {Thank you, my friends}. You are both right, and I can't forget that she did everything in her power, even though I miss her dearly."  
  
Aragorn and Arwen both looked away, giving Legolas time to compose himself. Aragorn suddenly cocked his head to the side, realizing that Thranduil had not spoken for several minutes.  
  
Suddenly Legolas jumped to his feet, sensing something greatly wrong. Hurrying to his father's side, the prince found that the king had lapsed back into unconsciousness. He quickly felt for a pulse. Finding none, he looked to Aragorn and Arwen.  
  
"I must." Then he put his hands on his father's chest and spoke quickly, letting his mind say what it knew needed to be said. He was not aware of the words, did not know what he was saying. His magic worked without his thoughts, it worked from his heart, his will.  
  
There were several long moments of utter silence, except for Legolas' continuing chant, as Aragorn and Arwen looked on. Thranduil lay deathly still, and for a moment, they feared that his spirit had already fled to the Halls of Mandos.  
  
Finally, there was a faint movement as Thranduil again drew breath. It was faint at first, and Legolas continued to work his magic, a soft green light flowing out of his hands and surrounding and being absorbed by Thranduil.  
  
Soon, Thranduil's chest began to rise and fall with each ragged breath he took. Sweat beaded on Legolas face and he grew pale, but pressed on, determined to bring his father back to a point where he would make it to the harbor without further healing.  
  
Aragorn wanted to stop his friend, but Arwen held him back. "He can handle it a little longer. Trust me, Estel, I know more of Elven healing then you do."  
  
The king acquiesced to his wife, knowing she was right. To his relief, Legolas pulled back, studying his father intently. "He is sleeping now, no longer breathless." Trying to stand proved impossible. Legolas turned imploring eyes on Aragorn. "If you could, I need a bit of help to get to my bed."  
  
Aragorn nodded, pulling the prince to his feet and guiding him to the place he had bedded down. "Rest, _mellon nin_. We ride tomorrow for the shore to send your father off to Valinor."

* * *


	6. Shattered Peace and Parting Ways

**_Reviewer Responses for Chapter 5..._**  
  
**moo13**: Thanks for the review! Glad we have you hooked and interested!  
  
**Zammy:** Sorry to keep you waiting...here's a chapter!  
  
**Kelsey**: As I said in my review on the story...I can't reveal answers to your questions, all of which are EXCELLENT thoughts. HOPEFULLY you will understand more of what you are asking VERY soon. And I have my beta to thank for the knowledge of The Silmarillion...she whips that out for us!

* * *

**_Chapter 6: Shattered Peace and Parting Ways_**  
  
_The next day..._  
  
The sun rose early for the travelers who had only just gotten to sleep. The ashes of the soldiers of Gondor who had perished in battle had long since cooled and spread in the wind. Aragorn was the first to rise, stretching cautiously.  
  
His movements jolted Arwen from sleep and she frowned. "Long has it been since I had to rise so early after going to bed so late," the Queen lamented. But her joking smile quickly became a frown. "Estel, you are in pain."

"Some," the king answered, brushing the question aside as not important. "Legolas did a good job with the wound, it is much better then it would have been if I had been left to attend it myself."

He turned, looking toward the sleeping elf who had curled up a little next to his father. Thranduil, perhaps seeking the warmth of his son, had slipped his hand into the prince's. It tore at Aragorn's heart to think that they would be separated forever.  
  
"Not forever, love," Arwen said. "I know what troubles you."  
  
Aragorn looked down. "You read my mind again, Arwen. I have a feeling that Legolas has no intention of going into the West and I hate to see him lose his father so suddenly under such dire circumstances. How will he ever know if his father lives or dies? There is no way to send a messenger with news."  
  
"I will know." Legolas put his hand on Aragorn's shoulder, slightly amused that he had been able to sneak up on the king and queen. "I will feel it if he dies, but he will not die, he is strong." The prince looked much better today, back to his usual pallor.  
  
Arwen, contemplating for a moment, suddenly looked up, smacking her forehead lightly. "Why did we not think of it sooner?" she muttered. Aragorn and Legolas eyed her in confusion. "We are not far from Rivendell. Surely my father can help the King. He is, after all, a highly gifted healer. Then you would not lose your father to the Havens just yet, Legolas!"  
  
Aragorn and Legolas exchanged glances. "Good point, why didn't we think of this sooner?" Aragorn chuckled. "I guess in all the excitement we really were not thinking straight."  
  
Legolas' eyes flitted to his father. "Rivendell is closer then the Havens and he is failing fast. We should do as Arwen says and take him to Lord Elrond."  
  
A guard broke into their conversation, bowing to his King and Queen. "King Elessar? We have prepared everything for our journey, we await your orders," said Alladan, a captain of Gondor.  
  
Aragorn looked over to where Thranduil lay sleeping. "Legolas, will you be strong enough to ride with your father today or shall I assign a man of mine to the task?" Inwardly he knew the question was a futile one.  
  
"I will be fine," the prince said, calling to Arod who wasted no time in coming to his master. "We will have another companion today, just like old days. Except my father is a bit bigger then dear Gimli was."  
  
Arwen laughed at the statement and hurried off before Legolas could ask what was so funny. The elf prince hurried to his father's side, gently shaking the elf's shoulder. "_Adar_ {Father}? You must wake up for a moment; we have had a change of plans. We are taking you to Rivendell, to Lord Elrond."  
  
Thranduil groaned as consciousness washed over him. "I feel as if I were pummeled by an avalanche of stones, every inch of my body hurts," the elf king muttered. He saw who was rousing him and frowned. "Are you well enough for this, my son? And what's this about Rivendell?"

Legolas smiled. "Father, I know I did not tell you of my magic ability, I hope you are not offended, but I was unwilling to accept them for a while. They have allowed me to heal myself and you so we can make the journey. Arwen rightly suggested we go to Rivendell where Lord Elrond can better heal you. Though I could help you, I do not have the strength to fully heal you."  
  
His father looked about to argue, but realized that there was no point. He could tell just by looking at Legolas that the prince was definitely on the mend. He looked almost no worse for the wear. "All right, I trust you. And Rivendell is a fine idea. I admit this injury grieves me."  
  
With the help of Aragorn and Legolas, Thranduil was soon situated on Arod. Legolas lithely swung up behind his father and reached around both sides of him to take hold of the horse's reins. Since Arod wore no saddle, Legolas would have to hold his father tightly to keep him on the horse.  
  
As the two worked on moving and situating Thranduil; Arwen drifted away from the camp. She was not feeling well, again, and didn't want to worry Estel. This was the second week in a row that she had gotten physically ill nearly every morning. She wasn't sure what ailed her, but she was still immortal since her father had not left these shores and Elves weren't supposed to get sick. So what was this?  
  
_Estel has enough on his mind_, the Queen thought. _No need to burden him more_. She stooped over, moving her hair aside, and lost her meager breakfast. _I don't know why I bother eating breakfast; I should just stick to lunch and dinner_. She resolved that when they got to Rivendell, she would speak to her father about what was ailing her.  
  
Sighing, she stood, rearranged her clothing and hurried back to the others, glancing around cautiously. No one had noticed her brief absence.  
  
Once everyone was mounted, Aragorn and Arwen led the way, followed by Legolas and Thranduil and then the rest of the company. They went only as fast as the elf king's injury would allow, taking frequent rests along the way.  
  
Legolas marveled at the darkness of the day, it was noon and the sky was blue but the earth was not responding to it. He sighed; knowing now was probably not the time to do anything to wake up the land, though he wished he could. Right now, his father was more important.  
  
"We are nearing the borders of Rivendell," Aragorn said after a time, turning in his saddle to face Legolas. "Do you think he will make it there or shall we rest?"

Legolas was about to reply when a weak but resolved voice sounded in front of him. "I will make it."  
  
Arwen rode close to Aragorn and Legolas now. "Estel? It worries me that there are no border guards. They should have intercepted us by now; we are not exactly traveling in stealth."  
  
The King had been thinking much the same, but he had not wanted to worry his wife. "I too thought it odd, _meleth nin_ {my love}, but perhaps the border guards are spread thin. Many of the people in your father's realm have already sailed."  
  
Arwen didn't answer. She had a feeling things were very wrong in Rivendell. As they entered the beautiful valley that was home to the Elven haven, all eyes scanned the area for movement.  
  
There was no one to be seen.  
  
"Where is everyone? Surely they haven't all left for the Havens already!" Arwen cried, fear creeping into her usually calm voice.  
  
Aragorn put a hand on her shoulder. "Easy. We will see what has happened." The King led the group into the courtyard of Elrond's home, scanning left to right in search of someone. Anyone.  
  
What he found, he wished he would never have seen in his lifetime. A mass of dark hair spilled over the head of an Elf lying just inside a nearby building. A dark brown stain had long since dried on the marble ground around the elf.  
  
"Rivendell has been taken by the shadow as well," Legolas breathed quietly, his eyes widening as he too saw the fallen Elf.  
  
Arwen's sob sounded like a clanging bell in the silence. _My home! My people!_ "Estel! They have destroyed my home! Blood has been spilt in this haven where no harm has ever befallen anyone in my long years. I have to find my father!"  
  
Vaulting from her horse, Arwen hurried along well-wore paths, Estel at her heels. "Arwen wait!" but she would not listen, weaving through the corridors toward her father's familiar haunts, knowing she would not likely find him there, but desperate to find him safe.  
  
"Arwen!" Aragorn tried again, finally catching up with her and grabbing her arm. To his immense surprise, she spun around and threw herself into his arms, crying uncontrollably as the events of the recent days and the tragedy of Rivendell caught up with her. "Shhh, your father is not dead, you would have known. Something tells me you would have known."  
  
As the King comforted the Queen, Legolas turned to the Gondor soldiers. "Begin a search of the city. There must be someone alive yet. Search all the surrounding lands, including the waterfall."  
  
The men obeyed without question, bringing a smile to Legolas' face. He was a prince, but not of Gondor and yet the men listened to him as if he was. He went to his father, whom the guards had helped lower from Arod's back, and proceeded to aid the elf lord into the Last Homely House.  
  
He could hear sobs and low voices as he neared Elrond's healing chambers. Arwen. _This must be devastating for her, just as it was for my father and I_. He decided to take the longer way around, not wanting to bother Estel and Arwen.  
  
Thranduil seemed to sense this motive and did not say a word. He was too busy trying to continue moving, fighting against the always present weakness and dizzy spells he was now suffering from.  
  
"Elrond is not here," he muttered, leaning heavily on his son.  
  
Legolas frowned, finally reaching the healing chambers. "No, but he will come. He would not leave Rivendell for long. There are plenty of herbs here to help you and Aragorn is an accomplished healer."  
  
As he spoke of the man, Aragorn entered the room, trailed by a red-eyed Arwen. She had composed herself quickly and Legolas had to smile to himself. _She is such a strong being!  
_  
Aragorn approached Thranduil and Legolas stepped aside, letting the King do his work. Unwrapping the bandage from the Elf's chest, Aragorn frowned. "The wound does not seem keen on closing," he muttered, turning away from Thranduil. "An old concoction _Ada_ taught me should help that."  
  
He hurried over to the wall lined with jars of healing herbs and began to scan the bottles, lifting a few from the shelves here and there. As he took down a clay bowl and began to crush a few of them together, the door burst open.  
  
"My Lord! We have found a survivor!" cried the guard who entered, breathless from an apparent run. "He is in a bad way, my Lord! They are right behind me!"  
  
Stepping aside now, the guard allowed two of his companions to enter the room, carrying a barely conscious, dark-haired Elf between them.  
  
"Erestor!" Arwen cried, hurrying forward. Legolas met her at the door and the two carefully took the Elf from the soldiers and laid him gently on the bed next to Thranduil.  
  
"Estel!" the Queen called, worry flowing through her at the sight of her father's long time advisor. His clothes were torn and bloody, his right arm appeared broken and he had a large, ugly gash on the side of his head. She knew there were numerous other hurts on his body, but the head wound and the fact the Elf's eyes were closed worried her greatly.  
  
The King gently moved her aside, looking to Legolas for a second before turning his attention to Erestor. He inhaled sharply at the sight of the elder elf. It hurt to see him thus injured; Erestor was always a kind, good- natured soul. He wouldn't hurt anyone and was not really a warrior. Obviously he had battled hard and held his own for a time before the Orcs had left him for dead.  
  
Aragorn worked quickly and efficiently to stabilize the Elf, using a lot of his strength to call him back from the brink. Legolas joined in a little, lending some of his healing ability to the Elf in hopes that he could prevent Aragorn from draining all his strength.  
  
After a half hour of tense work and intense silence, Aragorn looked up from Erestor. "He will live," the exhausted King announced, slowly sinking into a chair between the beds of his patients.  
  
Thranduil had long ago fallen into a deep sleep, his breathing ragged, but still strong. Erestor had not stirred, but neither Aragorn nor Legolas felt him wavering at the doors to the Halls of Mandos anymore.  
  
Arwen breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Estel. I know that took a lot out of you. Legolas and I can remain here, you need some rest."  
  
She frowned when the man made no move to rise. "I am fine, _meleth nin_, {my love}" Aragorn countered, resting his head in his hand.  
  
"Fine? You can barely stay upright, Estel. Please, for all our sakes, go rest."  
  
Arwen had a point, he had to admit it. So Aragorn slowly rose to his feet, his easy acquiesce a sure sign that he was overtired and had taxed too much of his strength to heal the two wounded Elves. "I will be just down the hall in my old room," he announced, dragging his feet as he stumbled from the room.  
  
Legolas and Arwen exchanged knowing glances, and once Aragorn was out of earshot, they both began to laugh softly at the former ranger's predictable behavior.

* * *

_A few days later..._  
  
"Erestor, do you really think you should be out of bed?" Thranduil called from where he was propped up against a mountain of pillows. He laughed lightly, clutching his chest, at the look that he received.  
  
The dark-haired Elf shook his head. "My Lord, I am fine. There is no need for me to remain in that bed anymore then there is a need for you to worry about me!" Only the slight smile on his face belied his joking.  
  
"What is going on in here?"  
  
Arwen entered now, a chiding tone in her voice. "Erestor, the King is right, you are barely healed yourself, and you were at the doors to Mandos' Halls only a few days ago."  
  
Erestor frowned. "Dear Arwen, I am far older then you and when I say I am all right, milady, I am all right."  
  
"I'll be the judge of that, old friend."  
  
"Estel! Of all those in this room, you are by far the youngest! How can you claim to know better then I when I am healed and when I am not?"  
  
Aragorn laughed. "I can because I am the King and have the hands of a healer. Besides, you are my patient and you follow my orders in regards to your health. Unless you would like me to call on the Orcs to return you to your former state, then there would be no argument."  
  
Legolas laughed from the doorway. "I see no reason why Erestor should be made to lay in that bed any longer. He looks fine to me."  
  
Aragorn frowned. "You are one to talk, _your_ _Highness_! You are the worst patient of any of us!" Legolas shot the ranger an offended look, and everyone laughed.  
  
Erestor broke in. "As much as I enjoy this conversation, I believe updates are in order here." He waited until all those present were listening to him. "Lord Elrond received a letter from King Thranduil and left for Eryn Lasgalen a few days before the attack on Rivendell..."  
  
"From me!" Thranduil cried, startled. "I sent no such letter!"  
  
There was silence.  
  
"Perhaps it was the wizard who sent the letter, _Adar_." Legolas mused. "He probably didn't want to contend with Lord Elrond. What with Vilya, he was too much of a threat to his plans."  
  
The others nodded in agreement, turning to Erestor to continue speaking. "Well, he went, traveling part of the way with Glorfindel and old Bilbo Baggins who were heading to Lothlorien for a visit to the Lord and Lady."  
  
Aragorn sighed. "Well that explains why he is not here then. In a way, it is good, but it also worries me. If Graelath knows that Elrond has the ring, he probably knows that Lady Galadriel bears Nenya. He may hope to gain the rings for his own use later. That can not be allowed to happen."  
  
"We won't allow it," Legolas said, laying a hand on Aragorn's shoulder. "We probably know more then Graelath thinks we do and that works to our advantage."  
  
"You are right," Aragorn said, smiling lightly. "I think it is imperative that we return to Minas Tirith. The realms of Men may be next on Graelath's list and I do not wish to leave my city to his hordes without being there to fight for her." He glanced to Legolas. "I think your father should remain here and wait for Lord Elrond."  
  
Legolas did not answer immediately. He hated to leave his father's side when the King was in such a bad way, yet he knew that the fate of Middle- Earth might weigh heavily on himself. He had to go with Aragorn.  
  
"As much as I grieve to do so, you are right, Aragorn." Looking to his father he saw only acceptance. "I will accompany you to Minas Tirith. We will rid Middle-Earth of this fiend."  
  
Erestor looked thoughtful. "If you will give me a clean bill of health Estel, I can watch over the King until Lord Elrond returns. I can't imagine that it would be much longer before they will return, especially once they realize that he and Legolas are no longer in Eryn Lasgalen."  
  
Thranduil nodded in agreement. "Go Legolas. I will be fine. Your healing, combined with Aragorn's, has given me the strength to wait for Elrond."  
  
Legolas nodded and left the room swiftly to order the Men to ready the horses for the journey back to Minas Tirith. Meanwhile Aragorn and Arwen stayed in the healing room in order to get as much information possible from Erestor about the attack in Rivendell and the details surrounding Lord Elrond's departure.  
  
After he had seen to the necessary preparations, Legolas headed back toward the healing chambers, lost in thought. He slowed as he drew near, uncertain of what he wanted to say to his father. A nagging fear of losing the elder Elf ate at his heart and he wanted to pour out centuries of things he wanted to tell his father, just in case he did not see him again. But he swiftly pushed thoughts of death from his mind.  
  
_He will not die. Lord Elrond will arrive in time and he is the strongest Elf I know_, Legolas thought to himself as he halted outside the chamber door. _But how do I say goodbye_?  
  
Aragorn and Arwen opened the door, speaking quietly until they noticed Legolas standing there. The King put a hand on his long-time friend's shoulder and smiled wanly. "Go to him, _mellon nin_, we will give you privacy," he said, turning and beckoning for Erestor to follow them out.  
  
Taking a deep breath, Legolas entered the room, his eyes traveling straight to those of his father. For a moment after Arwen eased the door shut with a smile, Legolas didn't know what to say, he remained rooted to the spot.  
  
His relationship with his father had not always been the closest. They were royalty and had to act the part in most aspects of their lives and the times they could act with open emotion were few and far between.  
  
"_Ada_..." Legolas began, faltering. "There is so much to say and no time to say it in," he muttered.  
  
"I know, _ion nin_. What I wouldn't give for a century just to speak with you about everything and anything." Thranduil beckoned for Legolas to come closer, waiting until the Elf was at his side before he reached out and took his son's hand.  
  
Legolas stared at his father, still uncertain of things. "Are you proud of what I've become, _Ada_?"  
  
Thranduil forgot to breathe when he heard those words. Faltering and sputtering a bit, the Elven-king finally found his tongue. "Legolas, my Greenleaf, I could not be more proud of you, _ion nin_. You are a brave, honest, caring soul and I could ask for nothing more. I love you with all my heart; I pray that you know this."  
  
Legolas looked into his father's face, tears glistening in both of their eyes. "_Iston, Ada_ {I know Father}. I have always known you love me, but to hear it come from you means so much more to me."  
  
Thranduil pulled downward on his son's hand and drew him into an embrace. "We will see each other again before long, Legolas. You and Aragorn will once again save this world and I will see you again before I set sail. This is no goodbye, only a short separation. There is no need to say farewells here."  
  
Sighing contentedly, Legolas whispered into his father's shoulder. "That's good, _Ada_, because I was having a rough time working up the courage to say goodbye to you." He pulled away now, rearranging his clothes and smiling. "And we will see each other again in this world. I will see to it."  
  
The Elven-king laughed lightly, and then swatted Legolas away. "Now go, _ion nin_. I will be fine in the care of Erestor until Elrond returns. You have a wizard to catch and no time to lose. Promise me you will be cautious and return to me unscathed."  
  
Legolas laughed now. "I promise I will be cautious, but I can not promise unscathed. Aragorn and I have a penchant for injury."  
  
Thranduil glared at his son, who laughed and then turned and fled the room before the King could exact revenge for his son's last statement. When the footsteps receded, he whispered to the air, "Valar protect my son and his friends in these perilous times."  
  
Legolas joined the others and they slowly proceeded out the gates of Imladris, calling out prayers for Erestor and Thranduil and promises they would meet again in better times. Legolas turned in his saddle one last time before the gates disappeared. "Valar protect my father and all the others in these perilous times."


	7. Return of the Fellowship

**_Reviewer Responses for Chapter 6..._**  
  
**Deana:** SURPRISE...your wish has been granted...here's chapter seven... and...glad you liked the change with Thranduil! It WAS sad...

* * *

**_Chapter 7: Return of the Fellowship_**  
  
_Several days later...  
_  
Minas Tirith rose in the distance, dazzling white in the midday sun. It had been long since Legolas had visited the city, too long. It was a shame he had come in such dire times. He had not meant to be away so long, but things had been busy in Ithilien and then he had made the tragic trip to Eryn Lasgalen.  
  
"The King returns!" cried the city's gatekeeper, quickly ordering his companions to open the gates for Aragorn and the others. The mithril gates cycled open and the company cantered into the city, not slowing to greet the gatekeeper. To himself, the man said, "Something must be wrong, the King is worried."  
  
Aragorn and company rode toward the palace stables where they quickly left the horses to be attended, and then hurried inside to begin discussing courses of action. Much to Aragorn's surprise, the dining hall was already occupied.  
  
"Aragorn! Arwen! It is wonderful to see you," came a deep voice from one of the tables. The dwarf jumped up when he saw the elf prince. "Legolas! My friend! What a pleasant surprise!" He hurried to the prince, who had entered the room, and gripped his hand.  
  
Then, Gimli moved aside and four hobbits bounded forward, gripping each of the newcomers in a hug. Legolas bit back a cry at the pressure, but smiled. He didn't fool Gimli though. "What is it my friend?"  
  
Aragorn, seeing the look in his friend's eyes, answered for the prince. "Gimli, Merry, Pippin, Frodo, Sam...please have a seat. There is much to talk about; I will fill you in immediately on what has happened." Aragorn couldn't believe that he had forgotten that the Fellowship had made plans for a short reunion; he had been looking forward to it for several weeks. The news from Eryn Lasgalen had banished their plans from his mind completely.  
  
Once the hobbits and dwarf had taken their seats, Aragorn, Arwen and Legolas joined them. "The elves of Eryn Lasgalen and Rivendell have been all but wiped out."  
  
Aragorn was forced to stop speaking as a burst of questions and protests came from the rest of the Fellowship. For a moment, chaos broke out, until Frodo managed to quiet his cousins and Sam.  
  
"Aragorn, we were just in Rivendell less than a month ago on our way here, and everyone was fine!" the elder hobbit cousin said in confusion.  
  
Arwen sighed. "Then you were lucky, dear hobbits, because you avoided the brunt of the shadow that befell my people." She found she could not say more, and Aragorn quickly took control of the situation again.  
  
"Legolas was gravely injured, but survived, as did his father. King Thranduil is in Rivendell, awaiting the return of Lord Elrond, because his wounds were too grave for him to be moved further and treated here." Aragorn took a breath. "Elladan and Elrohir went to Rivendell when we went to Eryn Lasgalen. We did not meet them in our journeys, but I've no doubt they are well."  
  
Gimli looked closely at Legolas. "You are all right now?" When the elf nodded, Gimli let out a deep breath. "Thank Aule. Do you have any idea who attacked your people?"  
  
Legolas stopped Aragorn before he could continue, feeling strong enough to speak about it himself. "Yes. My father believed it to be a wizard of the First Age, an immortal, who fell from grace long ago and has been in hiding ever since."  
  
"Who is this wizard?" Pippin asked, looking at Legolas. "Why do you think it is him?"  
  
Legolas sighed. "His name is Graelath. And we think it is him because he wields a great power, the power to cast spells, much like Saruman, but far worse. He is the last of his kind, a race that was rare and powerful." He went on to tell the hobbits and Gimli of Galadriel's rescue. They quickly agreed that this man's power, if used for evil, would be formidable.  
  
"Do we have any idea who he would attack next?" Frodo asked, leaning forward on his elbows, not really believing that he was again engaged in saving this world, so soon after defeating Sauron.  
  
Aragorn shook his head. "No, we have no idea. We can only hope we will discover his next target before it is too late, before they too suffer the fate of the elves."  
  
Just then, Faramir, hearing of the King's return, entered the dining hall, and followed closely by his wife, Eowyn. He bowed to the King, and then turned to Legolas. "It is good to see you alive, my friend. We were worried about you." Then he spoke to Aragorn. "We have been invited to visit Edoras. King Eomer wishes his sister to be there for his birthday."  
  
Aragorn nodded. "All right, but before you go, you should know what is going on. It may affect Edoras before you know it."  
  
The two joined those already assembled and were quickly brought up to date. Eowyn brought herself to speak first. "I am sorry to hear about Eryn Lasgalen and Rivendell," she said. "We will be wary, if there is any sign of this spell in Edoras, we will send word immediately."  
  
The king nodded in agreement. "That sounds like a good idea. We should send messengers to all the realms, just in case the spell has overtaken others."  
  
Faramir and Eowyn took their leave. Legolas, who was tired from their journey, looked about ready to nod off. Gimli, concern in his eyes, put a hand on Legolas shoulder. "You should go rest, my friend. We will fill you in on everything that happens while you are gone."  
  
Normally, the elf prince would argue, but this time he was too tired to do even that. "All right, but just this once. I will admit I am quite tired." He followed a servant from the room, all eyes following him as he left.  
  
Once they were certain he was out of earshot, Frodo spoke up. "Is he really all right? What exactly happened in Eryn Lasgalen, what happened to him?"  
  
Aragorn spoke in low tones, still afraid the elf would be able to hear him. "He was very badly off when we found him, but Legolas surprised us all. He has the ability to wield Elven magic. We had a glimpse of his magic when he used it to save us from the orcs we met with after leaving Eryn Lasgalen."  
  
Taking turns, Arwen and Aragorn told their friends all that had happened in Eryn Lasgalen and the journey back.

* * *

_In Legolas' quarters...  
_  
He bid thanks to the servant, and then closed the door to the guest chambers gently behind him. Immediately, fatigue overtook him. Then he saw himself in the mirror, bloody and full of dirt. He despised being dirty. His eyes came to rest on the large bath in the corner of the room, soap on the outer lip and shampoo next to it.  
  
Smiling lightly, Legolas began the water, making it as hot as he could manage it. Just the thought of the warmth made him shiver in anticipation. Stripping from his soiled clothing, Legolas put them in a basket where he knew they would be collected and washed. In the meantime, he would wear the tunic he had found on the bed.  
  
Undoing the braids in his hair, he slowly lowered his weary body into the water until it covered all of him save his neck and head. He just lay there for a moment before gathering the last of his strength to wash his hair.  
  
As soon as the last of the shampoo was rinsed, he laid his head against the edge of the tub, and was fast asleep in moments, covered completely in the soapy water. If anyone had entered the room at that moment, they would have thought it was a dreamless sleep, so still was the form in the tub. But they would have been wrong.  
  
**-DREAM-  
**  
A field of yellow flowers surrounding by budding trees and great willows, lightly fluttering in the breeze. Legolas stood in the middle, breathing deeply and sighing contentedly.  
  
_This is a place I could stay forever, far from the hardship and sorrow of life in these times_, he mused as he reached down and caressed a bloom. He knew he was dreaming as he stooped lower. _Ah, but it is a good dream._  
  
"But you can not stay here, _muindor nin_ {my brother}, there is yet much for you to do."  
  
Legolas' head snapped up, and he stumbled back a step at the voice of another in his dream. "Maranwe? _Muinthel nin_ {my sister}? How are you here? This is my dream; you are in the Halls of Mandos!"  
  
Maranwe laughed lightly, stepping in front of her brother and brushing hair from his eyes. "Yes, I am in Mandos' Halls, Legolas. But I wished to tell you something and was given the privilege of doing so."  
  
Smiling now and reaching out to brush aside strands of his sister's hair, Legolas asked quietly. "Why did you not tell me of your visions, Maranwe? We shared everything."  
  
She tilted her head. "Everything, Legolas?"  
  
He frowned a bit, backing away. "Well, almost." Looking up, he couldn't remain forlorn long. It was too peaceful here; too wonderful to see his dear sister again. He took in her form in a flowing white gown, her beautiful face a few feet in front of him. As if she were still alive.  
  
"You had to have a reason, _muinthel_ {sister}."  
  
Nodding lightly, she took her brother's hand and answered. "The shadow of Graelath prevented it, Legolas. Its hold was too strong on me and I just didn't have the strength to overcome it. I wish I could go back and change things, but one can not change fate or destiny, _muindor_ {brother}."  
  
Legolas held her hands in front of him and hugged her. "I miss you so much, Maranwe. What I wouldn't give to have you back. I wish I had told you of my powers, of this magic I possess. I am sorry I did not. The distance between Eryn Lasgalen and Ithilien harmed our relationship and I am sorry for that."  
  
"Do not feel sorrow, Legolas. For you will face much of it before this is over. Only remember that fate is fate and destiny is destiny and neither can be altered. What will happen, will happen, Legolas." She smiled now, stepping back toward a blinding flash of white light. "Remember me and that I love you, Legolas."  
  
He reached forward, grasping air. "Don't leave, Maranwe! Please."  
  
She only shook her head. "This is what is meant to be. We will meet again. Someday, somewhere, somehow."  
  
And she was gone.  
  
**-END DREAM-  
**  
Legolas shifted in momentary discomfort, then sighed and settled back down in the water as if someone had whispered soothingly in his ear to banish his disquiet.  
  
That is how Gimli and the hobbits, who had been sent to see how he was, found him later, fast asleep in the bathtub. Gimli, thinking his friend would be asleep, was surprised when he opened the door and did not see the elf in bed.  
  
Pushing it further, he led the hobbits into the room and suddenly, Frodo laughed. Gimli turned to ask what was so funny, but when he followed the hobbit's glance, he too laughed, followed closely by Merry, Pippin and Sam.  
  
The laughter roused Legolas, who jumped slightly, sending water splashing out of the tub, while Gimli chuckled more. "I never thought I'd see the day, catching an elf asleep in a tub. My, aren't you just a wee bit vulnerable there, master elf?"  
  
Legolas frowned. "Perhaps, but who would attack me here, in the safety of Aragorn and Arwen's home?" He asked that they turn around then quickly donned a towel, wrapping it around his waist.  
  
"All right, you can turn back," he muttered, after climbing from the tub. He stood, dripping torrents of water off his pale skin. Gimli was the first to turn, staring in shock at the wound on Legolas' back.  
  
The hobbits gasped aloud, causing Legolas to turn toward them. Their eyes widened even more. The elf, now understanding the reaction, frowned. He wished he had covered up before they had seen the wounds, knowing it was only worrying his friends.  
  
"Are you certain you are all right, Legolas?" Gimli asked, taking a step closer. Legolas nodded, gesturing for his visitors to take a seat.  
  
"Let me show you something," the elf prince said, coming to sit across from them. He smiled lightly, trying to reassure the looks of worry on his friends' faces. "I have healing abilities, beyond what many elves can do."  
  
He gently rested his hand on his sword wound, the worst of the three, wincing lightly at the touch. Then he began to speak. Since they did not speak elvish, Merry, Pippin, Sam and Gimli didn't know what the prince was saying. Frodo, who knew some elvish from living with Bilbo, was able to follow part of the chant.  
  
Suddenly, they began to perceive a faint glow emanating from Legolas' hand, into his wound. He had his eyes closed now, concentrating very hard on his healing. Sweat began to bead on his forehead, but he continued to chant softly.  
  
Then, as quickly as the light had appeared, it faded and Legolas opened his eyes, keeping his hand on the wound. "There is nothing to worry about, though the use of magic makes me tired, it does not hurt me. On the contrary..."  
  
He moved aside his hand and smiled lightly at the gasps of his friends. Where the sword wound had looked blistered and bright red, jagged and barely closed, it now looked like it had been healing for months. The skin was tightly closed; white scar tissue had begun to form. The skin around the wound was not the angry red it had been moments ago.  
  
Frodo was the first to speak. "Have you had this ability forever? Why didn't you use it to save Boromir, or King Théoden?"  
  
He had known this question would come, but hadn't been prepared for it so soon. Leave it to the simple-minded hobbits to ask the hardest questions. Taking a deep breath, he spoke the truth. "In Lothlorien, Lady Galadriel spoke to me, in my mind. She told me she knew of this power I wielded, knew of its real purpose. As much as I might want to, she told me, I was not to use it during the quest of the Fellowship, for the quest had to be completed by the strength of the inhabitants of Middle-Earth alone. No magic. No healing."  
  
To his relief, his companions nodded in understanding. "I guess she had her reasons." Gimli said.  
  
Sam, quiet since they had all arrived, spoke now. "Yes, if he used magic, there would be no need for everyone to help. Heck, the future wouldn't be what it is today!"  
  
Everyone looked at Sam with surprise. Legolas smiled broadly, "Exactly, Sam. You have got it just right."  
  
He stood now, moving behind a light screen so that he could put on his leggings. Once he was dressed again, the blues, browns and dark greens he usually wore replaced with the white and brown of the borrowed tunic, he reached up to attempt rebraiding his hair, frowning at the pull on his shoulder and stomach.  
  
Still not better yet, he said to himself.  
  
"Let me." a soft voice said from across the room.  
  
Spinning on his heel, he was startled to find Arwen standing in the doorway. Because she was an elf, she had a way with being able to move silently. Even Legolas had not known she was there, which worried him a little. He would need to be much more in tune when they left.  
  
"All right, milady," he answered, handing her the brush he had been about to use. She laughed, chiding him for calling her "milady". He smiled and his blue eyes lit up teasingly. "It is a habit now, Arwen. You are, after all, a Queen."  
  
She sobered only a little. "Yes, and you are a Prince, my friend. The only heir to King Thranduil. So perhaps I should be calling you 'sire'?"  
  
Legolas gave her an ugly look. "No...perhaps not!" He laughed, promising not to call her milady if she didn't call him sire. "But you do have a point; I am a Prince, even if I choose not to make it known to all." Now, he frowned. "A Prince without a kingdom, however. Eryn Lasgalen is no more. It will fade into memory and in time the forest will overtake and erase all evidence of our once regal home. It is a sad thought, but in time, all things must come to an end."  
  
Gimli, wanting nothing more to break the somber mood Legolas had unwittingly created, guffawed from across the room. "Legolas the Prince. He seems to be lacking a headpiece! What shall we crown him with, dear hobbits?"  
  
Pippin smiled. "How 'bout a pillow?" He threw the pillow right at Legolas' head and the elf only just avoided a full blow to the head by leaning quickly to the side. He looked at Gimli and Pippin in awe, not fully believing they had just thrown a pillow at him.  
  
"Oh, I don't like that crown very much, least not when I'm awake. Here, take it back," and he flung the pillow back at Pippin, knocking the hobbit back onto the bed.  
  
Everyone laughed now, forgetting the destruction of the two Elven realms, until they saw Aragorn, a stern look on his face, in the doorway. "There will be no horseplay in this house. There are far too many important matters to attend to."  
  
His tone and false face of seriousness didn't fool Legolas, who'd known him for a long time now. "Yes my Lord." The elf, being bolder then the others; took hold of a pillow and let it fly, right into Aragorn's face.  
  
"Why, you!" The king shouted, a smile erupting on his own face as he held the pillow and swung it at the elf's head, hitting him soundly on the nose. "That'll teach you to throw a pillow at a king!"  
  
Despite the fun they were having, they knew it had to end. "Come," Aragorn said. "We shall dine and discuss what we are going to do next."

* * *

Seated at a table laden with all sorts of delicious foods, the hobbits, Gimli, Legolas and the King and Queen discussed what they would do about Graelath and his schemes. "We do not know who he will attack next, that much is obvious." Aragorn said, playing with the roast pork on his plate. "But then again, he probably doesn't know that Legolas is alive, possesses Elven magic, or that we are on to him."  
  
The others nodded in agreement, but no one could think of anything to add to the conversation. "Well," Gimli frowned, putting his fork down. "Perhaps someone can explain this Graelath to me a bit more. I'm afraid I really do not get how we came to this conclusion so quickly. Sure, he _sounds_ like he can be a really evil wizard, but how do we know for _certain_ he has turned and stayed turned? You said he was once a great wizard so what changed him?"  
  
Arwen, being somewhat familiar with the stories of Graelath, decided to tell some of them so that Legolas could eat. She hadn't realized it, but the elf had eaten little on their journey and now seemed rather famished.  
  
"All right, Gimli, you probably have a point. We should bring everyone up to date on Graelath." Settling into her chair, the Queen thought for a moment before beginning. "Graelath, the Black Wizard of the Great Wizard Council, was born in the middle of the First Age. He showed exceptional skill at wizardry from a young age and was taken under the wing of a powerful wizard of the council. Years passed before that wizard died and Graelath took his place on the council. He was a great man for many long years, outliving all the wizards of the council, but never achieving the highest chair, as he was always a little too emotional." She slowed, "as a matter of fact, it was emotion that led to his downfall."  
  
**-FLASHBACK-**  
  
"Graelath, you must go to the aid of the elves, they need your help right now, the threat to the Ethaim is not strong yet, it does not merit sending a wizard of the council," Gorgof, the head wizard chided his companion carefully, seeing the argument in Graelath's eyes and knowing the man had a temper.  
  
"But, Gorgof! The Ethaim are my people, we are few in number! I fear for my family, I feel this threat of Morgoth is more dire then it seems!" He stepped into the center of the circle of wizards. "Please, let me go to my people, send another to the elves."  
  
But Gorgof would have nothing of it. "The council has decided that the threat is with the elves. You are powerful, a great wielder of magic, you are the best for the job therefore you will go to their aid. We will send Makir to the Ethaim."  
  
"Makir?!" Graelath exclaimed. "He is but an apprentice to the council! He is not skilled enough for a mission such as this. He will not be able to fend off an attack!"  
  
Gorgof glared at Graelath. "Will you contradict this council yet again, Graelath, son of Aranim?" His voice was like daggers now, a fire in his eyes. He was not to be reckoned with in this mood.  
  
Graelath glared right back at him. "So be it. But mark my words, Gorgof, if death comes to my people at your decision, things will change. Mark my words." He spun on his heel, his black cloak billowing out behind him, and stalked from the tower chambers of the council.  
  
Gorgof's hard stare softened and his head dipped. "I have long feared this, for if Graelath falls, terrible things he will be capable of." He had not spoken to the council, but they all heard his words and looked at the door, which had just closed in Graelath's wake.  
  
"Terrible indeed, for he can wait forever, until we are not here to stop him, and he has long since been forgotten by Man and Elf."

* * *

"Makir could do nothing. The apprentice wizard tried to stop the onslaught of the angered wolves. He tried to stop them from attacking the last of the Ethaim villages in Middle-Earth, the home of the great wizard, Graelath. But he could not." Arwen continued in a soft voice, remembering the stories that her father had told her of that terrible tragedy.

* * *

"Where is Graelath? Where is he now when his people need him?" cried one of the villagers, fighting off an approaching wolf with a broadsword and heavy shield, not seeing the one behind him which wasted no time in tearing into the man's flesh.  
  
Makir cringed, his mind unable to comprehend what was happening, unable to think of any spells he had learned in his apprenticeship. All he could think as he stood there, staff trembling, was why had the council sent him, and not Graelath?  
  
"Master Wizard! Can you do nothing?" called a woman, screaming as she struck out at a wolf with a large stick, hitting the creature on the nose, momentarily stunning him. "My father would be able to! What kind of wizard are you anyway?"  
  
The woman was fierce, with dark brown eyes and fiery red hair. She looked a lot like the council member Makir had only met a few times in the council chambers. Behind her, in a huddle, were an old woman and another woman who looked about Graelath's age. His mother and his wife. In the wife's hands was a baby son.  
  
"I am an apprentice, milady! I did not ask for this, on the contrary I wish they had sent Master Graelath!" He hit a wolf over the head with his staff, knocking the creature down. He could see the people tiring, the wolves increasing in number. Soon they would lose this fight.  
  
The woman, Graelath's daughter, suddenly screamed. A wolf had caught her off guard, grabbing her arm in its jaw, teeth biting deep. It shook her like a rag doll, ripping the limb right off her and then Makir could watch no longer.  
  
He ran.

* * *

Wolves were everywhere; people in all stages of death lay around the village. Old and young, man and woman, the wolves left none alive. Huddled in a corner were the cooling bodies of three women and a child. The wolves had not eaten them, for they had been defeated by a lone man, cloaked in black. But they had been defeated too late.  
  
"NO!" cried Graelath, arriving to a scene of blood and carnage, wolves feasting on his people. Where were his wife and children? His mother? Were they alive? He raised his staff and shouted in a strong, clear voice. "_Merith naghiar_ {Move not}!"  
  
In a flash of light, the wolves were immobile, much as he had done with Carcharoth and his pack when he had saved that she-Elf in Doriath. So angry was he now, that instead of simply throwing them, he chose a more sinister route, so deeply rooted was his hatred.  
  
"_Arnew deniah ni ralim makinar unin_ {Let death by flame befall you}!"  
  
His spell, for a spell it was, set all the immobile wolves on fire, their howls of pain filling the darkening sky for miles around as they burned, unable to move or douse the flames. He had no pity, watched them burn to death, held immobile even in death.  
  
When they were all dispatched, little more then charred remains, Graelath released them from his spell and their bodies fell to the ground and disintegrated, leaving piles of ash and bits of bone on the ground. He hurried toward his own home, years of visits taking him there without thought.  
  
He screamed in rage, despair, and self-loathing.  
  
Dead.  
  
Kneeling beside the bloody remains of his wife, mother, son and daughter, Graelath cried, tears of grief pouring down his face. He looked up at the sky, yelled. "Where is Makir? Why did he not save them?"  
  
Inwardly, he knew the apprentice could not have. That he did not have the skills to do this. The wolves had been organized, no doubt controlled by Morgoth. Just as he had feared, the danger to the elves had been nothing compared to this. Why had the council stopped him from coming?  
  
"They knew. They knew the threat was here." He chanted, hugging his baby son to him. "They will pay, they all will. The council is to blame. I will get revenge. I will kill them all!"  
  
In that moment, his blue eyes turned black. His face twisted in anger and he clutched his staff. "But Makir first, for he is not among the dead." And with that, he left his village, never to return, and searched for Makir.  
  
**-END FLASHBACK-  
**  
"You can well imagine what Graelath did when he found Makir, sitting in a grove not far from the council tower, resting." Arwen shuddered at the thought. "The poor apprentice never knew what hit him; he was dead before his body hit the ground."  
  
Gimli took a deep breath. "Did he kill the rest of the council as he vowed to do?"  
  
"No, not right then. Most say he never did kill them," Legolas said, not looking up from his plate. "At least, that's what is commonly believed." When he did not continue, Gimli cleared his throat. Legolas looked up; all eyes had turned on him.  
  
Putting down his fork, the Elf continued. "Everyone believed that the council was killed during an epic battle against Sauron, during the Last Alliance, which is somewhat true." Turning to Arwen and Aragorn, he smiled lightly. "But my family knows this did not happen as legend has it. For my father was there and he saw what happened."  
  
**FLASHBACK**  
  
Elves and Men were fighting side by side against the armies of Mordor. Long had it been since the days of Morgoth, the days when the wizard council had been strong. Now the new enemy was Sauron, once one of the Maiar, now a servant of Melkor and a Dark Lord. However, the council had grown old and weak. They were on their last legs, but determined to fight or die to protect Middle-Earth as they always had done.  
  
"So...the great council comes out of its tower to fight like men?"  
  
That voice. It commanded attention and drew the eyes of the council toward it. A man hooded and cloaked with a black staff in his right hand stood behind them, while the men and elves around him eyed him in doubt.  
  
The head of the council at the time, Largath, looked at the man and knew right away who it was. "Graelath. Long has the council looked for you, your staff should have been destroyed long ago."  
  
The old wizard stepped forward, raising his staff and was about to cast a spell when Graelath moved in, speaking rapidly in the tongue now only he knew. "_Unin deniar_ {You will die!}!" Pointing his staff at the old wizard he shouted something unintelligible and the man, his eyes wide, fell backward, blood spurting from his mouth.  
  
He was dead.  
  
Eyes alight with fire; the hooded figure now pushed his hood back from his face, revealing a shock of red hair and black eyes. "You will all die!" Before anyone could fathom what was happening, he chanted again, quicker this time, and the wizards clutched their hearts.  
  
One by one, they fell to the ground...dead.  
  
Graelath looked around at the Elves and Men, who had not moved; who were not paying any attention to the battle raging at the foot of Mount Doom, and the cutting of the Ring from Sauron's hand went unnoticed.  
  
"I have no qualms with you right now," the wizard said, turning and vanishing into the droves of reserves, never to be seen again.  
  
**END FLASHBACK**  
  
"My father was among those Elves who did not see the Ring cut from Sauron's hand, for they too were staring in awe at this wizard who had so easily killed the entire wizard council." Legolas stopped, letting his words sink in. "I, for one, have no trouble believing fully that Graelath is responsible for what befell my people."  
  
He had spoken strong, but Aragorn could tell that the whole situation greatly troubled the elf. Legolas might have the ability to wield magic, but Aragorn knew the elf realized that his magic was not much compared to what Graelath displayed.  
  
"I agree with Legolas," Aragorn said. "And that is why we have our work cut out for us. How are we to defeat someone as powerful as this man? I do not have any ideas right now, I only know that the fight will come to magic and only one of us can do magic." All eyes turned on Legolas, who was silent, and understandably sullen.  
  
"Yes, I fear it will," the elf said simply. 


	8. The Shadow Moves On

**_Reviewer Responses to Chapters 6 & 7..._**  
  
**KELSEY:** IMPORTANT...PLEASE either leave your e-mail address in a review, or if you feel more comfortable not posting it for all eyes to see, SEND ME an email at kat2032 usa data net . net (just take out the spaces). I have answers to your two latest reviews, concerning technicalities about Elves and the likes, as well as my character Graelath. I CAN NOT post them on the review section or here as it would take up WAY too much space and I would MUCH rather correspond with you through e-mail to answer all your questions. Please get in touch with me or post your e-mail address. I promise I won't spam you!   
  
**Deana:** Glad you liked the Legolas bath tub scene. That came OUT OF THE BLUE when I wrote it and it was just too good to cut it out!   
  
**Gozilla:** Again...thanks!

* * *

**Chapter 8: _The Shadow Moves On_**  
  
_Rohan...One week later...  
_  
Sitting atop a high hill, the golden hall of Meduseld glimmered in the morning sun. Inside the hall dwelt Eomer, King of Rohan, the land of the horse-lords. He was expecting the arrival of his sister, Eowyn, and her husband, Faramir of Gondor. All that mattered to the king right now was the feast he had planned for a week from now, that was all that had mattered for a good number of days now.   
  
"My Lord?" called his faithful servant, Éothain. "Our guests have arrived; they are riding into the stables as we speak."   
  
Eomer smiled. "Bring them to me as soon as they are able." Leaning back in his throne, he briefly remembered the last time he had seen Eowyn. It had been years now, many years. He had been at the coronation of Aragorn as King of Gondor; there he had watched the light dance in Eowyn's eyes as she stood with Faramir. He was glad for his sister, glad that she had found her love.   
  
"Brother!" came a cry from the entrance to the hall. "It has been too long!" Eowyn, dressed in a light brown riding dress, had hurried past the throne room guards and was quickly approaching.   
  
Eomer smiled broadly. "It is wonderful to see you, sister. I am glad you could make it to my birthday celebration, I have missed you these last two years."   
  
Faramir came to stand beside the two now, greeting the King of Rohan with a low bow. "My Lord."   
  
"Dispense with the 'my lord', dear Faramir. We are brothers, bound by this fair lady!" Eomer extended his arm to his brother-in-law, which Faramir promptly grasped at the forearm.   
  
Eowyn wasted no time in telling her brother of the danger now present in Middle-Earth. "Eomer, the elves of Rivendell and Eryn Lasgalen, formerly Mirkwood, have been attacked by a powerful enemy. We fear that this enemy will come for men next." She studied her brother's face. "Legolas says that he is a powerful wizard, able to throw a shadow spell over all, making them unaware of incoming threat."  
  
To her great surprise and dismay, Eomer laughed. "A great wizard? This world has not had need to fear anyone since the fall of Sauron, I doubt we need to now. Perhaps the elves are just a little hasty in their worries."   
  
Faramir frowned. "No, the elves were all but wiped out, Eomer. Only Legolas and his father, and one elf from Rivendell survived the attack, but all were gravely injured."   
  
Still, oddly, Eomer seemed passive. "Let us not worry about the elves; we must only worry about the feast in a week. You must be tired, go to your old room, Eowyn, rest." He turned and left, leaving a stunned Eowyn and Faramir standing in an empty throne room.  
  
"Did he strike you as not entirely himself?" Faramir suddenly said, turning to face his wife.   
  
She frowned now. "Yes, he did. I think we should send word to Minas Tirith. I feel perhaps this is a glimpse of the shadow Legolas described. It made King Thranduil passive; he was only interested in food, drink and pleasure. I fear Edoras...Rohan...is this Graelath's next target." She finished her comment in low tones, afraid to be overheard.   
  
Faramir thought for a moment. "Surely everyone in Edoras will have been affected by this spell. Since we do not know how to counter it, one of us will have to ride back to Gondor. It is the only way, my love."   
  
Eowyn was about to argue. But inside, she knew this was the only way. Someone had to alert Aragorn and the others that Edoras was besieged, if not with weapons yet, at least by the wizard's spell. "You are right. As much as I hate to leave my brother in this hour of need, I am the faster rider, I will make better time."   
  
Her husband hesitated. Either way, Eowyn would be in danger and he hated that thought. He loved her dearly, but had to remind himself that the woman was stronger then she looked. "Yes, you are right. Ride swiftly, I will try to explain your departure to your brother, but I doubt he will see reason or be satisfied with what I tell him."   
  
Smiling lightly, Eowyn kissed Faramir good bye and ran back toward the stables. Leaping nimbly onto the horse she had rode in on, the woman wasted no time in leaving the city, a cloud of dust kicking up behind her.   
  
Faramir watched as the horse and rider disappeared into the distance. He only hoped she made it back in time, only hoped that those in Gondor would know what to do. Above all, he hoped that he would not fall to the shadow in the meantime, though he was already beginning to feel lethargic.

* * *

_Minas Tirith... 4 days later..._   
  
"Gimli, my dear dwarf, I am certain you can do better then that! Your ax only glanced the target!" Legolas laughed as he pulled the ax out of the far edge of the target and handed it to the approaching dwarf.   
  
Gimli grunted. "You have elf eyes, Legolas, you can SEE the target much better then I. Not to mention that an arrow is far lighter then an ax, takes less strength to throw, or rather shoot, this great distance!"   
  
Leave it to the dwarves and elves to start bickering about fighting prowess. Those assembled knew that this was an ongoing struggle between Legolas and Gimli and they quite enjoyed it.   
  
"He is right, Legolas!" Pippin laughed. "Perhaps you ought to shoot from further away, or with your eyes closed."   
  
The prince thought for a moment. "I believe you are right, Pippin. I will do both. I will stand 50 paces further and shoot with my eyes closed." He took his bow from Sam, who had been holding it while the elf chided Gimli, and walked away, not waiting for a retort from Gimli.   
  
"Yeah right," the dwarf laughed. "That is a tall order, even for an elf!"   
  
Legolas, whose hearing was impeccable, smiled and spoke over his shoulder. "How would you know that Master Dwarf, have you ever seen an elf attempt such a feat?" He continued to walk, knowing that Gimli had never seen such a thing.   
  
"No, well, I am guessing it to be impossible. Who can possibly shoot an arrow into a target at such a distance while blind?" He hadn't really asked the question, he was more so making a point. Legolas did not answer, but stopped at the agreed upon 50 paces.   
  
Merry smiled. "We shall see, shan't we?" He watched eagerly as Legolas notched an arrow, closed his eyes and took a moment to aim. How he was aiming, none of the onlookers could tell. Then, he let the arrow fly and all eyes followed it as it hit the target with a resounding thump.   
  
Right in the center of the bull's-eye.   
  
"No! I'll be an Orc's uncle!" Gimli grumbled. "How in Middle-Earth do you do such things? I swear you must have eyes somewhere I do not see, for I do not SEE how you can do that without SEEING." He seemed truly miffed now, not even making sense in his rants.   
  
Legolas just laughed. "You forget, Master Dwarf, that elves have exceptional senses. I have many more ways then sight to 'see' my target! An advantage in battle, no doubt." The elf smiled now, seeing the look in the dwarf's eyes. "There is no need to feel ashamed, Gimli, if that is the emotion I sense. You are far better then I with such a heavy weapon as an axe."   
  
Gimli perked up at that. "There you are correct, Master Elf. I am better cleaving heads with my ax then even you with your twin knives!" His pride restored, Gimli smiled again. "Come, I am famished, shall we retire for lunch?" His comment was directed at Legolas, but answered by Merry, Pippin and Sam.   
  
"OH yes!" The three replied at once, jumping to their feet.   
  
Gimli and Legolas smiled knowingly.

* * *

Aragorn, Frodo and Arwen were sitting down to eat just as the others arrived from the fields. The king greeted his friends, gesturing for them to join them in their meal. There had been no conversation between the three of them when the others had entered the hall, but Gimli and Legolas were in such high spirits that they continued to talk when they sat. The laughter of the elf was welcome to Arwen and Aragorn, who had worried for their friend.   
  
"Legolas, you didn't beat him too soundly did you?" Arwen asked with a twinkle in her eyes.   
  
"Beat me? He didn't beat me!" The dwarf grunted. "He just happened to be better at long distances, but past experiences have shown I am better in close quarters! So that makes us even!" 

Legolas said nothing. Instead, he changed the subject. "We should get down to business. Graelath will waste no time in attacking his next target. We must think of a way to defeat him, to defeat his shadow spell."   
  
Aragorn nodded, having been thinking of this the whole time he sat and ate. The question had been burning in his mind since they had established the spell as the cause of the elves unawareness. "Yes, something your father told me might have bearing. He said that when he was injured, it felt like the spell was pushed away, repelled almost. I don't know what that might mean though."   
  
His wife did. "Perhaps the body is shadowed by the spell, shadowed from everything bad. But when something actually befalls the body itself, injures it, the shadow is broken, at least somewhat lessened."   
  
Legolas caught on to what she was trying to say. "That makes sense. If the spell's purpose is to shadow the people from threat, then perhaps their bodies are shaken from the stupor when physically injured." He sighed then. "But we can't go around wounding every inhabitant in all the cities; it would get us nowhere."   
  
Aragorn nodded. "That is true of course, but it might be helpful knowledge later. Legolas, do you have any knowledge of spells that might counteract this one? Perhaps, something that can shield a city, or even just a person?"   
  
The elf shook his head. "I do not. When I use Elven magic, I do not know what I am doing, it just happens. I can make myself do it, but I know not what I will do. Things come...naturally...I guess you can say." The prince was still hesitant to reveal the fact that there was a voice in his head that told him what to say.  
  
Gimli frowned. "This is getting us no where. Are there no books on spells we can study, something from past ages?"   
  
The king nodded. "There are, but it would take a long time to look through all the books of old."

The dwarf grunted. "We have time, we do not know where Graelath will strike next and until we know we must at least try to figure out what we are going to do. I do not believe researching spells will be an ill use of time."   
  
"Well said," Arwen smiled. "I think Gimli is right. We might learn much from books."   
  
That said, the rest of the reformed Fellowship agreed and they dropped their meals to go to the library. The king of Gondor had many books of all different types, but the largest and most expansive collection was history books, written by wizards, men and elves alike.   
  
The hobbits and Gimli would begin with books in the common tongue, while Arwen, Legolas and Aragorn tackled those in Elvish. It was dry work; many of the tales had nothing to do with magic or the old wizard council. Soon though, Pippin piped up in excitement.   
  
"I have found something. Information on the Ethaim! Those were Graelath's people, weren't they?" The hobbit was jumping up and down, holding open a large, leather-bound book. Aragorn hurried over to him.   
  
"Yes, Pippin, they were." Taking the book from the hobbit, the king began to read the passage aloud.   
  
_"The Ethaim, dwelling in the Northern reaches of Fangorn Forest, were an immortal race, best known by the language they spoke. Few who were not of their kind spoke the language, and when the Ethaim were wiped out in the Second Age by a gruesome wolf attack, their language was thought to have died with them. If not for the wizard, Graelath, the ancient spells of the Ethaim would have been killed with them. Graelath, a member of the Great Wizard Council, had been on a mission in Lothlorien when the attack decimated his people, arriving just in time to kill all the wolves and find his family brutally slaughtered."_   
  
Aragorn stopped reading. "Pip? We already know all this; it is essentially what Legolas and Arwen already told us." Looking at the hobbit, he sighed. "We have to find something on his powers."   
  
To his surprise, Pippin laughed. "I didn't want to interrupt you, Strider, but if you would just skip a few paragraphs, you would see what you are looking for. Graelath was not the only one of his race to wield this magic."   
  
Tearing his eyes away from the hobbit, the king began to scan the page for the information Pippin promised. He quickly found it and a smile spread across his face. "Yes, you are right. It does talk about the Ethaim magic."

_"In ancient times, the Ethaim were numerous and strong. They had at their disposal a kind of magic paralleled by none in Middle-Earth. Speaking a language they called "Etrain", they were capable of controlling the minds of people and animals from afar. The Ethaim could move objects with a thought, or stop the beating of a heart with a chant. There was thought to be no known defense against Ethaim magic, until the birth of a Silvan elf named Cellnen."   
  
"Cellnen, born to a king of the Silvan elves, possessed the ability to bend nature to his will. He could control the elements, the trees, ground and water at a whim. But despite his power, Cellnen could not defeat Ethaim magic, only block it. To do this, he called upon a long-forgotten force of nature known as "Gweluthand" or "air shield". By enveloping himself in this natural shroud, Cellnen could withstand any spell that an Ethaim cast on him."_   
  
Aragorn didn't need to read on. "That is it! Legolas, perhaps you are a descendent of this Cellnen. He was a Silvan elf, and you have Silvan blood in you, he possessed this ability to wield magic that controls nature, just as you do. Can you conjure this shroud?"   
  
The elf prince shrugged, intrigued by the passage in the book. "I do not know, Aragorn. I have never heard of this Gweluthand, as it was named." The elf prince thought for a few moments. "I do not think I am a descendant of this elf. I do not recall hearing such a name when my tutors taught me about my family history. If he was from a royal line, it must have been from a realm other than Eryn Lasgalen." He frowned as he studied the book. "Do we know that this information is not false?"   
  
The king of Gondor shook his head. "No, we know nothing of its authenticity, but we have nothing else to go on. If only there were a way to test this idea, to see if you could conjure this shroud and if it would protect you from the spells of Graelath."   
  
Legolas was about to answer when the door to library was thrown open. It smashed into the bookshelf directly behind it, and drew the attention of all those inside. Eowyn came running through the door, her hair tangled from a fast ride, breath coming in short gasps.   
  
"Edoras... the spell. It is shadowing my brother and all in Edoras," the woman gasped, not able to say anymore. She had just ridden four days and had pushed her horse to his limit, nearly killing the poor beast in her haste.   
  
Aragorn was quick to act. "We must gather men and ride to Rohan. If this spell was cast immediately after the attack on Eryn Lasgalen, then I have no doubt that the Orcs and Uruks will be closing in on Edoras as we speak!" He turned to Eowyn. "Where is Faramir?"   
  
The woman's eyes fell. "In Edoras, my Lord."   
  
The king nodded. "Then we best make haste, for I do not wish the fate of Eryn Lasgalen on anyone else in Middle-Earth." Turning to Legolas, he added. "Now we will see if this shroud is real."   
  
Legolas didn't reply, only nodded, glancing at Gimli. The dwarf could see the uncertainty in the elf's eyes. He knew Legolas was probably thinking the same thing he was. How would he conjure something he didn't understand, wasn't even aware existed until moments ago? But his magic was still rather illusive, perhaps it would just happen.   
  
He could only hope when the time came, when they arrived in Edoras, he would be able to shroud the city and save the Rohan. 

* * *

_The Next Day..._   
  
Eowyn paced back and forth, anxious to return to Edoras, afraid that her brother and husband were in grave danger. Even though she had not seen what fate had befallen Eryn Lasgalen and Rivendell, she knew it had to be terrible to have decimated the Elves. Eowyn knew very little of their kind, but she knew enough to know that they were not easily defeated.   
  
"Eowyn? I know you worry, but you must rest if you are to withstand the journey back to Edoras. We will be riding hard, I would not want you to fall behind, or worse, fall ill and have need to return to Minas Tirith." Arwen appeared suddenly, with no warning, at Eowyn's elbow. A small smile crossed her face and she gently took the woman's arm. "Come, you would do well to have a bite to eat. The men are nearly ready to depart."   
  
It looked like Eowyn would refuse, but her stomach decided for her. She was rather hungry. "All right, milady. I will follow you and eat something." She dragged her eyes away from the city gates where she longed to be headed.   
  
Aragorn, meanwhile, was rather frantically assembling a force to ride to the aid of the Rohan. Legolas and Gimli exchanged glances, knowing that the king was not his usual calm self. The elf decided to intervene.   
  
"Estel, may I have a word in private?" He asked, gently laying his slender hand on Aragorn's arm, startling the man. "I need to discuss preparations with you."   
  
Nodding, Aragorn gave a parting order to the man he had been speaking to and followed the elf prince away from the men. "What is it, Legolas? I have much to do, we need to have a veritable force to ride to Rohan, we can ill afford being unprepared."   
  
"Yes," Legolas answered, tilting back on his heels a little, breaking eye contact with Aragorn. "But, you are not doing things in an organized fashion. You are giving orders randomly, causing a bit of confusion among the men." He looked back down, seeing the rising resentment in his friend's eyes, knowing he had to explain himself quickly before the man's temper flared. "You are worried, I understand that, believe me I am worried too. But we must prepare carefully as you said, and we can not do this with you frantically throwing out orders."   
  
For a moment, Legolas thought Aragorn was going to walk away in anger. But the man did not. He thought for a moment and then hung his head. "You are right, Legolas. I am being a bit hasty with my orders. I will try to think more clearly. We can not afford delays because of my worrying."   
  
A small smile crossed the elf's face and he nodded, laying a hand on Aragorn's shoulder. "You are wise; for a man!"   
  
He barely dodged the blow aimed at his back, hurrying to escape Aragorn's reach before the king could exact his revenge on the elf.   
  
Gimli waited until Aragorn had gone back to organizing the soldiers before approaching his elf friend. "Well, how did it go? Did he take well to you chiding his disorganization?" Legolas nodded. "Yes he took it very well. I thought I would have to dodge more then one blow from him because of that one. But he understood he was being a bit frantic, he is indeed a wise leader."   
  
Gimli grunted. "Yes, he is and we would do well to not forget it! I am certain HE will not LET us forget it!" The dwarf, shifting his weight, turned to Legolas now. "Will we ride to war together once more, my friend?"   
  
Looking down at the stout figure beside him, Legolas smiled. "Yes, we will fight side by side once again, mellon nin. And hopefully we will return victorious, side by side, as well." 

* * *

_Graelath's Fortress...   
_  
"All goes as planned," Graelath muttered to himself, his Crebain spies having brought news that the Rohan were contained in Edoras, oblivious to his approaching Orc army. "Soon, Rohan will be rid of its human occupants and only Gondor and a few small realms will remain."   
  
He hurried to his tower top, chanted the shadow spell again, further shrouding Edoras under his guise of safety. His Etrain words echoed across the mountains, reaching the ears of one lost creature that was not meant to hear them.   
  
Lowgala, a short, chubby being that looked similar to the Hobbits of the Shire, had been wandering the shadowy, mysterious mountains for many long years now. How he had survived, he himself did not know, but he was no longer the carefree, blonde Noki he used to be.   
  
The Noki, a race that was unknown to most and that had dwelt in the Misty Mountains, had finally had succumbed to the danger of their home. They had been wiped out by vicious attacks of mountain creatures, the unforgiving weather conditions and devastating illnesses.   
  
Lowgala was all that was left, stumbling blindly through the Mountains, trying desperately to get to some refuge where he could find aid.   
  
"What? What is that?" He muttered to himself. Lowgala had taken to talking to himself a long time ago for there were no other creatures in the mountains to communicate with. Hearing words, even in a tongue he did not understand, was unusual to say the least.   
  
So was finding a dark tower blocking what rays of the sun actually penetrated the mists that shrouded the mountains. Who had built this tower? Who dwelt here?   
  
Lowgala had nothing to lose. But then again, it sounded like this tower's inhabitant was casting a spell, which meant he was probably very dangerous and Lowgala did not have a death wish today, he had grown bored of death wishes for the moment, though he was certain they would return someday.   
  
"Maybe I am nearing the end of this forsaken land," the creature mumbled, his once neatly combed hair had withered and died, falling out in large clumps. The gloomy atmosphere and loss of his people had taken its toll on Lowgala. He more resembled the creature Gollum of legend then he did his own people.   
  
Pushing on, stumbling on stones, Lowgala continued in a western direction. At least he thought it was west. He didn't know why he chose west, but he didn't want to go in circles so he continued in that direction.   
  
The chanting had since ceased and Lowgala looked up at the tower wistfully. Too bad he could not stop and chat, he longed for company. Yet something about this place repelled him. It felt wrong.   
  
It felt overpowering.   
  
It felt evil. 


	9. Second Strike

**_Reviewer Responses for Chapter 8...  
_**  
**Amthramiel:** Thanks for reading the story! And as for Legolas being the reborn Cellnen...I dunno, IS that right? smiles innocently   
  
**Deana:** I'm happy that you like the way Legolas is characterized in the story. I am trying to keep him in character; I don't like stories where the characters are too far off. He is strong, but also sensitive...   
  
**Kelsey:** As always, glad you are enjoying the story. Seeing that phoenixqueen and I already mailed you responses to your review...I don't have to answer it again! BUT...thanks for sticking with us and enjoy this post and the next!   
  
**Zammy:** Your wish is my comment...(hits the button to post the story chapter...(Or rather, my beta does that...but you get the picture!!))  
  
**Note:** _**Legolas' age has been a topic of debate in many circles. For this story, we have decided to go along with the idea from the movies that he is in his late two-thousands despite the fact that many argue he had not reached even one thousand at the time of the Fellowship and the War of the Ring. We wanted to avoid doing any kind of drawn out math, and we also wanted to place him as being in the same age range as Elladan and Elrohir, and at this point they are 2881, so by using Peter Jackson's estimate as a starting point, we've made him slightly older than the twins. If you do not agree with this age, that is fine by us, but please do not flame us or point out he is much younger...after all Tolkien never did say how old he was in so many words. We have read the accounts concluding he is younger then one thousand, but chose to use this age anyway. Thanks for understanding and enjoy the story.**_  
  
**-Gwenneth and phoenixqueen**

* * *

**Chapter 9: _Second Strike_**  
  
_Rohan...four days earlier...  
_  
Faramir paced the halls of Meduseld, worrying about Eowyn and hoping she would return with aid in time. _The journey from Minas Tirith took about eight days. The feast is in a week's time. Will the attack come during the feast?_  
  
His mind was beginning to dwell too much on the feast. He was still coherent enough to know that the spell's intent was to create a false illusion of safety. Dwelling on thoughts of pleasure and food was not something he wanted right now.  
  
"Faramir! Where has that sister of mine gotten to? I told her to rest in her old quarters, but when I went there to speak with her she was not there," Eomer had entered the hall through a back doorway, startling Faramir from his thoughts. The man had not had time to formulate a response to Eomer's question and he stood, contemplating, for a few moments before speaking.  
  
"She had to return to Minas Tirith. She would not say for what, only that it was immensely important and that I need not accompany her," he smiled. "I believe she suggested I would only slow her down and she wanted to return before the feast."  
  
Eomer's eyes clouded and narrowed in suspicion. "Back to Gondor? I wonder for what purpose she made that journey after having just arrived." He frowned. "This is unexpected. I had hoped to have her help with the preparations."  
  
The captain of Gondor took this opportunity to change the subject. "Let's go prepare then. Surely we will not let a little mishap like this interfere with the feast preparations!"  
  
Less enthusiastic then would be expected, Eomer nodded. "All right, let us go then. There is nothing I can do about Eowyn now. I am fairly certain she is long gone." He did not smile, nor did his suspicions lessen. He couldn't put a finger on why it bothered him in this fashion. _Shouldn't I be upset, not suspicious?_  
  
He cast all thoughts other than the feast from his head and led Faramir from the throne room.

* * *

_Aragorn's Company...the plains of Rohan..._  
  
The riders of Gondor had been traveling at break neck speed for an entire day now, without so much as a stop, and the horses were beginning to tire. Aragorn was loathe for any delays now, but knew that if horses started dropping they would jeopardize their mission. So he called a halt.  
  
"We will camp here until first light, and then continue on to Edoras. See that the horses are well watered and taken care of. We have a hard day of riding ahead of us," he said as he drew the column of soldiers to a stop. There were sighs of relief. Many of the men were not accustomed to long rides and he could see the toll it was taking.  
  
Eowyn was the only one who argued about the stop. "But my lord, we can not stop! We must ride on; the orc army may already be on the march to Edoras!" She was trembling slightly and Aragorn could see she was about to collapse. Before he could intervene, Legolas came over and put a hand on her shoulder.  
  
"Milady. You are doing your brother and husband no good by killing yourself to get there. If you were to continue riding straight through, if any of us were, we would arrive in Edoras too tired to fight. Is that really what you want?" Leave it to the elves to speak bluntly.  
  
Her eyes softened and she hung her head. "No, Legolas, you are right. We mustn't kill ourselves getting there. I am just so worried about my family, my people." She stopped, looking the elf in the eyes. "I am sorry; I forget that you have lost your people to this same threat. No doubt you understand my fears."  
  
Legolas, to his credit, smiled. "Yes, I am glad that I can be here for you to speak to. I know it is important not to hold your feelings in. So anytime you need to talk, seek me out, I will not mind." He took his hand from her shoulder now and walked slowly back to his horse.  
  
Gimli was watching him closely, looking for any signs of distress from his elf friend. When he saw none, he smiled lightly and moved off toward the four hobbits, who had begun lighting a fire to prepare a meal. "Always thinking of food aren't we Samwise Gamgee!?" He laughed, plopping down beside Merry and Pippin.  
  
Soon, Legolas joined them, his eyes thoughtful. Frodo, noticing the elf, spoke first. "Legolas? Of all the people in the Fellowship, you were the one I knew least about. You were quiet, we never learned anything about you save that you were the son of Thranduil of Mirkwood. Even now, I do not know a lot about you. I know you have been alive a long time, maybe you could share some stories with us!"  
  
Merry and Pippin nodded excitedly, the hobbits loved storytelling and who better then an elf that was millennia old to tell a story. A small smile spread across the elf's face. "You have a point, my friends. I did not disclose a lot about myself. Nor do I ever." Sighing, he leaned back against a boulder and thought for a moment. "Perhaps I can tell you a little about myself, beginning with my age."  
  
Aragorn came over, smiling, in time to hear the last few words. "Yes, you might not know just HOW old our elf friend really is." He too sat down, joined by Eowyn and Arwen. "Please go on, or shall I break the news to our hobbit friends?"  
  
Legolas shook his head, laughing. "No, I think I can handle this one, Estel." He turned to the hobbits and answered the question. "I am 2933 years old, which is quite young, for an elf. My father, King Thranduil is FAR older then that."  
  
The hobbits knew elves were immortal, but they were astounded at how old their friend was. "You don't look a day over 30!" Pippin said, his awe conveyed by his voice. "How is it you are so old, but look so young?"  
  
Arwen laughed. "If only you knew how old I am!" She would not give any further answer, leaving the hobbits to guess at the Queen's age.  
  
Merry thought for a moment, trying to make a guess. He studied her, but because her face held such wisdom, it was hard to tell if she was older or younger than Legolas. "Are you...5000, Lady Arwen?"  
  
Both Arwen and Legolas laughed. Arwen shook her head. "The only clue that I will give you is that I am younger than Legolas." The hobbits looked surprised at that, for if anything, Arwen appeared older than Legolas. "Once an elf reaches adulthood, they change relatively little in appearance. Legolas and I have looked much as we do now for hundreds and hundreds of years."  
  
Sam spoke now, looking at the elf prince with a new respect. "You must know a lot then. Having lived so long, I mean. You lived through many lives of men! Can you tell us about your people?"  
  
For hours, Legolas and then Arwen spoke of the elves. It saddened the hobbits when they realized that their friends were some of the few elves left in Middle-Earth. Their race sounded so intriguing and they would have liked to have had more contact with the elves, learned more from them.  
  
"So you talk to trees? That is how the Ents first learned to speak?" Pippin said, finally realizing how the trees learned language. "I never knew that! We never asked Treebeard how the Ents came to talk. But I see now!"  
  
Legolas laughed. "Yes, that was way before my time though. I heard of it in stories. Until I met Treebeard, I had never met an Ent, or had a conversation with a tree in words. Elves often speak to nature, but we rarely are answered in words." He looked at Eowyn and smiled lightly. The woman had fallen asleep some time ago, her head lolled back against her horse's leg, the horse not moving an inch for fear of waking his companion.  
  
Aragorn followed Legolas' gaze. "Perhaps the Lady Eowyn has the right idea. We should all get some sleep. I have already set up a watch among the soldiers. There is no need for us to remain awake. Please, rest, for tomorrow we have a long ride to Edoras."  
  
Arwen followed her husband off to a spot a few yards away. The hobbits grouped close to the fire and Gimli sought a spot near the rocks. Legolas had no intention of sleep at the moment; his thoughts were too alive with memories of his friends in Eryn Lasgalen. Speaking of the elves had jogged his memory and it saddened him.  
  
He thought all the others had gone to sleep until his elf hearing perceived light footsteps approaching. Knowing who it was before they arrived, Legolas had to laugh. The dwarf was trying so hard to sneak up on his friend, but he would never achieve the silent walk of an elf.  
  
"Gimli, I thought Estel said we should all sleep?" The elf chided, turning to look at the dwarf as he sat beside him on the grassy knoll.  
  
"Aye and he meant us all. You included Master elf!" Gimli retorted, a smile on his face.  
  
Legolas sighed. "Well, in case you have forgotten, I can rest as we ride, for elves have dreams unlike any other species of Middle-Earth. I do not need sleep right now. Even if I had to, I would not be able to. I have too much on my mind."  
  
Gimli nodded, knowing this to be so. "That is why I came over, my friend. Perhaps talking about it would be the best way to cope with these thoughts." He wasn't used to a conversation with the elf that did not include sarcasm, but Gimli knew something troubled his friend.  
  
For long moments, Legolas said nothing. Then, all of a sudden, he began to speak. "Talking about the elves brought back so many memories, Gimli. I never knew what it was like to be lonely until now. I will walk this world until all that I hold dear grows old and dies. I am still immortal."  
  
The dwarf had been expecting something like this, but the sorrow he could hear in Legolas' voice startled him. The usually cheerful elf had never been so upset before. Racking his brain, Gimli strove to find words of comfort. He could find none.  
  
"I am sorry, my friend. I can not share your feelings, I am not immortal. But as long as I live, as long as Aragorn and Arwen and the hobbits live, you will not be alone. Once we are gone, you still have Valinor. You are free to go there when we pass. You would do well to remember that." That said, Gimli rose and returned to his bedroll, leaving the elf prince to ponder his words.  
  
_Gimli is right. I will not be alone so long as my friends live. And I will have the Havens to look to after their deaths. It is just the thought of losing them that grieves me. My father warned me of the sorrows of deep friendships with mortals. I am now beginning to understand the reason for his warnings._ Sighing, Legolas gazed up at the night sky and allowed himself to fall into an Elven sleep, eyes open and unmoving.

* * *

_Edoras...two days later..._  
  
"Faramir? Do you think I should wear the red or the blue tunic? Which makes me look more kingly, more...mature?" Eomer was holding up two tunics, one red with gold trimming and one blue with silver trimming. Faramir stood off to the side, watching the young king with amusement.  
  
Stepping forward, he pretended to thoroughly examine each garment and then smiled and answered. "Definitely the blue. It brings out the best in you. Besides, I am wearing red and we don't want to look like twins!"  
  
The king of Rohan laughed. He was having a wonderful time preparing for the feast with his brother-in-law. As a matter of fact, nothing else mattered, not even his sister's departure bothered him now. Decorations and entertainment had been taken care of; food was well on its way to being set. All that remained was one more day to waste away before Eomer's birthday celebration.  
  
"Tomorrow, my dear Faramir, we will feast like you have never feasted before. The Rohan know how to put on a birthday celebration. We have not fallen on bad times since the end of Sauron and we are thankful to have food in abundance!" Eomer laid out the tunic for tomorrow and went out to enjoy the day with his guest.

* * *

Cheer was not restricted to Rohan that day, for a black being in a dark tower was rejoicing as well.  
  
"The Rohan king is so full of merriment; he has not even posted any guards this day. They will not see the army on their border, not know that this birthday feast will turn quickly into a funeral. My spell has taken hold strongly in Rohan, no one resists like King Thranduil did. These mortal men are no match for the likes of Graelath."  
  
He laughed a high-pitched, cackling sound that echoed through the halls of his tower.

* * *

_Plains of Rohan...the morning of the feast..._  
  
Aragorn woke his companions just as the sun crested the horizon. Legolas helped him, having risen not long after the king. Together, they had the whole company up and ready to ride in no time. The hobbits grumbled something about breakfast, but they did not ask to remain. They knew that the threat to Edoras was far more grave then missing a meal.  
  
"Today is King Eomer's birthday feast. I fear the Orcs will attack today, we must make it to Edoras before the day is out!" Aragorn spurred his horse forward, the forces of Gondor wasted no time doing the same. Eowyn, refreshed by the night's rest, rode at the head of the column with Aragorn, Arwen, Legolas and Gimli. They all remained silent, each caught in their own thoughts.  
  
Hours flew by, no one rested and no one complained. They had already passed into Rohan, letting the horses fly across the grassy fields, weaving around jutting rocks. The men weren't able to make out the city yet, but Legolas suddenly cried out in dismay.  
  
"We are late! The orc army has already arrived in the city; I can see the city besieged. But they are still there, we are better off then if they had already finished their deed."  
  
Hearing the elf's announcement spurred the men and women on. Whispering in elvish to his horse, Aragorn surged forward, worried that the people of Rohan would be far worse off then the elves were. "Hurry, we are nearly there! I can see the golden hall of Meduseld! Ride men of Gondor; ride and we will defeat the orcs here and now!"  
  
But he could not help but notice the shadow creeping into his mind as they drew nearer to the city. It worried him and he glanced towards Legolas, hoping his friend would be able to figure out the secret of the air shroud and shield them from Graelath's spell.  
  
The shadow did not escape the prince's senses either. He remembered the feeling he had felt in Eryn Lasgalen, but this time he knew what he was up against and he knew there was a way to protect himself from it. If only he knew HOW to do it! _I must figure this out before we reach the city. If not, we will be lambs to the slaughter. We will reach the city in chaos._  
  
The orcs had seen the approaching riders and were now turning their attention to the oncoming forces, leaving the villagers alone for the moment. Aragorn drew his sword, raising it in the air and shouted for his men to engage.  
  
Swords clashed. The men were fighting, but gradually falling under the spell. Legolas desperately racked his brain for any knowledge that might shed light on the shroud as he shot off arrow after arrow. He could see the confusion in the eyes of the men around him; could see them faltering.  
  
Much to his surprise, he heard the same voice that he had heard on the way to Rivendell, the voice that sometimes aided him in the use of his magic. It was barely a whisper, penetrating the shadow with difficulty. _: Remember the trees from your story:_ the voice said.  
  
For a moment, he was stumped. He continued to fight his enemies, thinking of what the voice could have meant. As he sidestepped a vicious thrust, he had it.  
  
He remembered explaining how elves spoke to nature to the hobbits. _It's a long shot_, he thought to himself. _But it can't hurt to try 'asking' nature for help. After all, elves speak to trees; why not speak to other things in nature? This should be no different really._ Attacking another orc with his long knife, Legolas took a deep breath and begged that his efforts would pay off. _Please, Gweluthand, we have need of your assistance! Protect us from the spell of the Ethaim!  
_  
Much to the elf's surprise, a light blue mist began to appear out of thin air. The fighting around him faltered slightly, both men and orcs surprised by the new development. The mist thickened but did not inhibit the fighting; it was easy to see despite its presence.  
  
They felt the shadow in their minds grow weaker and weaker until it was no more then a whisper, easily ignored. Aragorn smiled to himself as he fought a particularly ugly Uruk leader. _Legolas must have figured out how to raise the air shroud!  
_  
Legolas himself was still in awe. _It worked! I never in a million years thought it would be so easy to do! Thank the Valar that nature is on our side!_, he thought as he swung his knife in a wide arc, slicing into an orc's soft neck.  
  
Suddenly, Eomer and Faramir exploded from the banquet hall. Faramir had a deep sword slash in his right shoulder, rendering his arm useless, but he was holding his own with his left. "Thank the heavens you made it!" He shouted to Aragorn, his senses having fully returned to him.  
  
Eomer seemed confused. He had no idea why his city was under attack, why he had not known that the orcs were approaching. He hadn't known there was an attack until they had begun to break into the banquet hall in the middle of his feast. _I will have to remember to ask my friends what is going on here. They seem to know something I do not._  
  
Eowyn shouted a warning to Legolas, who was unaware of an Uruk approaching his right side. He sidestepped, barely avoiding a nasty blow to the head. Hearing Eowyn's voice, Faramir faltered. He had not expected his wife to be in the heat of this battle.  
  
His momentary lapse of concentration nearly cost him his life. Legolas, seeing the threat, jumped forward, throwing himself into Faramir, wincing as the Uruk blade sliced into his thigh. Both fell to the ground and were quickly covered by Gimli.  
  
"Legolas! Are you all right?" Faramir dragged the elf to his feet, eyes roving over the prince looking for an injury. Catching sight of blood just before the elf was able to shield it with his hands, Faramir frowned. "You shouldn't have!"  
  
But he knew that the elf had saved his life. The blow had been directed at the man's chest, Legolas had not only knocked Faramir to the ground, but he had also jostled the Uruk, throwing off his aim. They didn't have time to argue what Legolas should or shouldn't have done. As the elf faltered, Aragorn could see the mist lighten and the shadow darken.  
  
"Legolas, you must not lose consciousness, if you do the shroud will dissipate. All will be lost!" Aragorn hated to see his friend in pain; Legolas suddenly seemed to attract injury like a horse attracts flies, he could only wonder how the elf had managed to avoid injury during the War of the Ring. The elf must have heard him because Aragorn could see him straighten and force himself to continue fighting.  
  
Arwen suddenly called from somewhere behind Aragorn. "Why do they not cease if there is no spell to control them? Do they follow this Graelath of their own free will?" She slashed at an orc with her sword, barely avoiding a blow to her arm.  
  
Suddenly, there was a cry from the left. Frodo wavered, and then toppled to the ground, unmoving. Sam cried out in rage, trying to get to his master. Merry and Pippin, much like they had in Moria, attacked the orcs with renewed fervor.  
  
Seeing the hobbit hit the ground angered Legolas. He knew that he was losing his strength, but he called on the shroud again. _Gweluthand, stay with us. Do not falter as I do, for I grow weak with loss of blood. We need you to stay strong!_  
  
He waited tensely to see if the mist would thicken again. When it did, he smiled, glad that Gweluthand heeded his pleas. Then, the elf hurried toward the fallen hobbit, swinging with his twin blades as he did so, hoping Frodo was not dead.  
  
He reached the hobbit just as an Uruk did. His right leg, barely able to hold his weight, wobbled dangerously. Eyeing the Uruk, Legolas tightened his grip on his blades, ready to attack if need be. The Uruk grinned, his black, rotten teeth showing behind black lips.  
  
Then he lunged at the elf. Whirling to the left, Legolas pivoted on his good leg, slashing with his right blade and connecting with the Uruk's fleshy arm, but the blow didn't kill him unfortunately. They locked eyes again, neither willing to let the other reach the hobbit.  
  
This time, Legolas attacked, surging forward to the left, but still favoring his injured leg. Seeing the elf's bloody thigh, the Uruk balled its hand into a fist and smashed it down on the wound. Legolas was caught by surprise, not expecting this tactic and cried out in pain, crashing to the ground as the leg gave out.  
  
Suddenly, an ax came out of no where, hitting the Uruk straight in the face. Legolas turned slightly, seeing Gimli quite a ways away. He smiled lightly. "Thank you, _elvellon_ (elf-friend)!" He called, now able to crawl to Frodo's side.  
  
Flipping the hobbit over, Legolas found a bloody wound on the left side of the hobbit's forehead at the hairline. He cringed. Frodo was impossibly still and blood rolled down his face and gathered in his dark hair. Legolas felt for a pulse, relieved to find a weak one, and moved to lift the hobbit. Then it dawned on him. _I'll never be able to pick him up! I can not even hold myself up with this leg!_  
  
Looking around, Legolas saw that the orcs were dwindling in number; the strength of the unshadowed soldiers was too much for them, for they had been expecting little or no resistance. Inwardly, Legolas wondered if Graelath knew what was happening in Edoras.  
  
He held onto Frodo, siphoning healing energy into the hobbit in hopes that he could keep him alive until either Aragorn could administer his healing herbs, or Legolas was strong enough to work his Elven magic. Right now, it was a miracle he himself was still conscious.  
  
Determined to protect his fallen comrade, Legolas notched an arrow in his bow and let it fly. It hit home in the forehead of an approaching orc. He continued to fire arrow after arrow, killing any and all orcs and Uruk's who approached himself and Frodo.  
  
All the while, the light blue shroud continued to shield the company from the evil spell, heeding the elf's last plea for help even if he were to falter completely.

* * *

_The Misty Mountains..._  
  
_Well this is an unforeseen complication_, Graelath thought to himself. _I had not expected Gondor to catch on so quickly. I know they rode to the aide of the elves too late, perhaps they found a survivor. Perhaps I have missed something very important.  
_  
He looked over his maps, noting that Eryn Lasgalen, once called Mirkwood, and even before that, Greenwood, had once been near the home of Cellnen, the only one to ever find a way to block Ethaim spells. _Perhaps there is a Silvan elf that is descended from Cellnen? A Silvan elf that was not killed? One who is blocking my spell? There is no other explanation; it should have shadowed the men of Gondor when they came into the city. But I was fairly certain I followed Cellnen's descendents closely! There should be no one left!_  
  
Anger welled up in the man and he slammed his fist down into the map. "I will not be thwarted by some elf descendent of that half-wit Cellnen. I killed him; I will kill this one as well!" He smiled an evil grin full of malice. "I will up the ante a bit. I will attack where they least expect it."  
  
He looked down at his maps, took a dagger from his waist and slammed it down onto the table. "I will attack the most helpless of your friends. I know the part they played in the destruction of Sauron, now they will pay dearly for it."  
  
The blade had been dug deeply into a portion of the map labeled, _The Shire_. 


	10. Aftermath

**_Reviewer responses for Chapter 9:  
_**  
**Deana**: Thanks for reviewing each chapter! I love hearing from you! Yeah, I do have a penchant for injuring Legolas; he is my favorite character and so fun to hurt! Enjoy this post.  
  
**Arayelle** **Lynn**: Angry bad guys is NEVER good! Thanks for reading and reviewing.  
  
**Kelsey**: Again, thanks for your continued support of the story! Your reviews are always fun to read. That voice...yup...that will be revealed later on. Glad you enjoyed and I hope you like this next chapter too.  
  
**Zammy**: Glad you enjoyed...here's your next update and hopefully they will continue to come quickly.  
  
**Queen Shadow**: Easy now! You don't honestly think our heroes would leave the Hobbits to defend themselves?! Thanks for your compliment on the story, I'm glad you like it. Yeh, Legolas and Aragorn WOULD go nuts if Arwen died...I REALLY think you will enjoy later chapters now...(NO I won't kill her....)  
  
**Pirate Gyrl**: Thanks for reviewing again! I know, I was updating fast for a while. But it slows down sometimes. My beta and I have to work around our real-world-work-schedules! You'll be seeing more of Legolas' magic soon...enjoy the chapter.  
  
**The-burglar**: Cool, you agree with the age we go by. I too think from some of his comments in the books that he is older then the sometimes believed 1000 or so. Besides, I like him to be around the age of the twins, it seems right that they would be.  
  
**_OKAY, now on with the story!_**

* * *

**Chapter 10**: _Aftermath_  
  
_Edoras_...  
  
The last of the orcs and Uruk's had either fled or been slain. Aragorn directed one of his men to compile a list of casualties and some others to take care of the wounded. He hurried over to where Legolas sat beside Frodo. The elf was deathly pale, his hand resting on Frodo's bloody head wound.  
  
The hobbits had reached their companion before the king and were weeping openly. Frodo's breathing was shallow and labored. Aragorn touched Legolas on the shoulder; the blonde elf opened his eyes and looked up. The man could see turmoil in the eyes.  
  
"I know you want to heal Frodo, but you are in no condition. First heal yourself; I will take care of Frodo. When you have regained your strength somewhat, you may take care of him." Aragorn pulled the elf's hand from the wound.  
  
Legolas stared at the crimson blood on his hand, tears threatening. The hobbits were such peaceful folk, so simple and carefree. He hated to see them here, hated that they were forced to fight, and especially hated to see them wounded.  
  
He glanced at Sam, Merry and Pippin, thankful that they had only minor abrasions. But he could see the look in their eyes when they looked at him; the looks of pain and of worry. The looks that said, _why don't you help him? You have the power to heal him!_ They knew he couldn't, but he could tell they did not want to believe it.  
  
Struggling, he tried to get up, his vision swimming as nausea overcame him and he fell back down. He felt a hand on his shoulder. "Legolas, my friend, you are weak, do not try to stand." Gimli knelt beside the elf, examining his thigh. "This needs to be taken care of. You can not heal it if you are so near to swooning. Let me attend to it. I do not have healer hands as Aragorn does, but I know what I am doing."  
  
Legolas, unable to restrain himself, giggled. "Healer hands indeed. Aragorn is not as gentle with me as he is with Frodo!" He could feel the evil look the king of Gondor gave him behind his back. "But I will welcome your help, Master Dwarf. I have not the energy to do it myself."  
  
He then noticed that the air was still misted blue. "Does the spell still linger? Or shall I tell the shroud it may go now?" He directed his question toward Aragorn.  
  
The man looked up, a little confused. "The spell seems to have disappeared. I can no longer feel it pressing to return to my mind. But what do you mean, tell the shroud? Did you not conjure it?"  
  
Legolas, using what little strength he had left, briefly explained what he did to 'conjure' the air shroud. "The shroud is a part of nature, just as the trees and the wind are. I do not really 'control' any of it when I use my magic. I figure I ask it to do as I bid. So, I asked that the air shield protect us. I spoke to it and pleaded that it would block the Ethaim spell, which it willingly did." Again he chose to gloss over the fact that he had had help from the voice that he kept hearing.  
  
Now, instead of speaking in his mind, he bid the shroud to cease its protection for the time being, aloud, in Elvish.  
  
"_Gweluthand_? 'Air shield'? Is that how you addressed it?" Arwen asked, sitting beside the prince and watching as Gimli cleaned the wound in Legolas' leg.  
  
"Yes, I could think of no other title. But something worries me..." He cut himself off and swallowed hard, trying not to wince aloud when his leg suddenly hurt. When the pain died down he continued. "I worry that Graelath will know that his spell was being blocked. I do not doubt that he is cunning, very smart. He will know that someone did this. And I do not doubt he knew of the Silvan elf, Cellnen, who discovered the shroud's secret. He will know I exist, if not who I am."  
  
Aragorn had been listening, but did not let on he was. As he worked to save Frodo's life, he feared for his other friend's life. Surely this wizard would stop at nothing to kill the elf if he found out who he was. Legolas was all that stood between Graelath and domination of Middle-Earth. Well, Legolas and the whole of Gondor if Aragorn had anything to say about it.  
  
Suddenly, Frodo stirred. "Ara...Arag...orn?" He stuttered; surprised at the pain the word elicited and the dizziness he was feeling. He was quieted by Aragorn's hand in front of his mouth.   
  
"Do not speak, Frodo. You have been badly wounded, a nasty blow to the head. I have no doubt you have a concussion, I do not want you to move or speak for fear you will undo the healing I have managed to do. Be still and silent, but try to stay awake if you can."  
  
Seeing the hobbit stir, Legolas spoke up. "Aragorn how is he? Can you keep him stable until I can help him?" Gimli grimaced as he worked on the elf's wound. He could tell Legolas all he wanted that he should rest but the prince was intent on helping Frodo.  
  
Aragorn nodded. "He is awake. I think he will be all right without your help. If things go badly, I will call on your aide, but I do not think he will need it. After all, this hobbit is stronger then most!" Smiling, Aragorn patted Frodo on the arm gently. He had finished administering to the hobbit, there was not much else he could do now but wait.  
  
Frodo nodded lightly, immediately regretting the action. Aragorn decided not to move him just yet. Gimli also decided his patient was to remain where he was for the time being. "You would do well not to try standing just yet. You will undo what I've managed to do for you." Looking over at Frodo he added, "And you can keep him company while the rest of us attend to the other wounded and dead."  
  
Legolas nodded, staying with Frodo and the other hobbits while Aragorn and Eowyn tended to Faramir's wound nearby. Gimli and some of the soldiers searched the city for wounded and did what they could for them. Eomer gathered his people together and made plans to move the city to Helm's Deep. "We can not stay here; Edoras is no place to be attacked in. At least Helm's Deep offers us better shelter from enemies. We fixed the breach in the Deeping Wall long ago, and we eliminated the drain that allowed for the breach."  
  
Aragorn nodded, content with the idea of the Rohan going to Helm's Deep. "We will not be able to accompany you there, I fear. I can not leave Gondor unprotected long. For all we know, it may be next on Graelath's list of targets."  
  
Legolas, who had been listening, spoke suddenly. "Somehow I doubt that, Aragorn. Graelath is smart; he must know that Gondor is strong. Stronger now then it was when Sauron was defeated. I would think he would wait until no one can come to Gondor's aid, or until we have traveled too far from Minas Tirith, helping someone else."  
  
The elf did not want to voice it, but he felt that some of the smaller realms were in danger now. Not Rohan or Gondor. Even without the elves the world of men was still too strong to deal with. Graelath might target the smaller kingdoms. _Perhaps the dwarves or the hobbits_?  
  
Legolas hoped he was wrong, but he knew there were many orcs and Uruk's left in Middle-Earth, eager to follow the command of any evil being bold enough to employ them. And he knew that there were still great evils in this world; even now that Sauron was defeated.

* * *

_Hobbiton_...  
  
"Rosie dear, could you get me another brew? I offered to bring one to the Gaffer." The hobbit smiled at the woman across the counter, a toothy grin that could only be taken as a flirtatious gesture. Rosie frowned.  
  
"Yes I can get you another, and no you can not ask me to dance. I am married, with child, and you know that you old Took!" She laughed now, seeing the embarrassment in the hobbit's face as he took the proffered brew and blushed. "Don't worry, you are still getting used to my marriage...you are so accustomed to flirting it is hard to stop!"  
  
She went about her business, cheerfully attending to the hobbits in the pub. _My, aren't we all cheerful and hungry today! I have never seen this place so busy! _She thought to herself as she filled another mug of ale. _As a matter of fact, if I didn't know better I'd think the whole of the Shire was a little too cheerful!  
_  
Hobbits were naturally cheerful folk, but she had begun to notice that no one was working in the fields; no one was doing any work of any kind. It was strange, it had bothered her at first, but she was rapidly beginning to push it to the back of her mind and concentrate on the fun things to do.  
  
_Odd, really. If we do not harvest, we do not eat. But no one seems worried about that. I guess I shouldn't either._ She shrugged and went back to her business.  
  
None of the hobbits were aware of the shadow darkening their senses. They only knew that food and drink had never seemed better.

* * *

_Edoras_...  
  
Sam suddenly bolted up, sweat pouring from his face as he clutched the light blanket at his sides, breathing hard. Legolas heard his gasp and rolled over, careful not to jostle his thigh. "Is everything all right, Sam? You were sleeping soundly before you woke."  
  
The hobbit looked at the elf, fear and anguish in his eyes. Slowly, he began to relax and speak. "I had an awful dream, Mr. Legolas. I dreamt that the Shire was attacked by orcs. My Rosie and all the others were killed. They had been under this shadow thing, totally unprepared."  
  
Legolas frowned, sitting up himself. "It is as I feared Sam. I too have been having dreams this night, of an attack on the Shire folk. I fear your dream is also a vision, as are mine. Try to go back to sleep, _mellon nin_, I will speak to Aragorn on this matter."  
  
The elf struggled to his feet, grunting at the sharp pain in his thigh. Once he was somewhat steady, he slowly made his way to where Aragorn, Gimli, Arwen, Eowyn, Faramir and Eomer were huddled around a small fire. They were all awake, speaking in hushed tones that the elf was easily able to make out as he approached.  
  
"Do you really think this wizard would attack the Shire? I mean, how can you be certain your dreams are not just that, dreams?" Eomer was saying to Aragorn as he munched on a piece of bacon.  
  
Aragorn was about to answer when Legolas, who had snuck up on all of them save the ex-Ranger, spoke quietly. "Sam and I have also had visions of an attack on the Shire. It woke him and he told me about it. I fear it must be so."  
  
He slowly lowered himself to the ground, surprised that this wound hurt so much. He must truly have been weakened for his healing to work so slowly. Aragorn looked at him with concern but did not address the matter. Instead he turned to the others. "Then it is agreed, this confirms it for you all?"  
  
They nodded. Aragorn turned to Legolas. "Are you up to the task, _mellon nin_? We must make haste to the Shire; they have no army, no soldiers of any kind. We must take the Rohirrim and the men of Gondor who are not wounded and ride to their aide. Eomer, Eowyn and Faramir have agreed to lead the people to Helm's Deep with a small contingent of Rohirrim."  
  
The elf nodded slowly. "I will be all right; I just need a little more rest and healing. Will we be able to take Frodo? He is still very weak, but I know in my heart he will yearn to go to the Shire." He glanced back toward the hobbits, sorrow in his eyes. "I do not think they will want to leave him."  
  
Aragorn suddenly got up and walked over to the elf, coming down quickly at his side. "You are bleeding again," he said to the prince. Legolas, unaware of this, looked down at his leg. His eyes were met with blood.  
  
"I had not noticed. I wonder why this is not healing." He said to no one in particular. Gimli came over and suddenly gasped. "I'll bet anything there was some sort of orc poison on that blade. It is hindering your Elven healing. In a mortal it might kill them."  
  
Aragorn nodded in agreement. "I should reexamine it. There would be signs of poison, discoloration perhaps." He reached out to remove the dressing, but pulled his hand back quickly. "It is extremely hot to the touch."  
  
Legolas suddenly felt lightheaded, about to swoon. He shook his head and blinked his eyes in an attempt to stave off unconsciousness, to no avail. Much to everyone's surprise, the elf toppled over.  
  
Gimli just managed to catch him, holding the elf's head off the ground. "You must work quickly Aragorn; I fear this poison has begun to do its dirty work. You don't think the same nasty concoction was used on Frodo, do you?"  
  
Arwen wasted no time, surging up and running quickly toward the hobbit. She fell to her knees beside Frodo, reaching out to touch his head. Thankfully, she felt only slight heat. But that didn't mean it was not poisoned, after all, it had happened after Legolas' injury and it might still take time.  
  
"He seems all right at the moment. I will continue to keep an eye on him," she announced to Aragorn, drawing the remaining hobbits from their slumber.  
  
"What is going on Lady?" Sam asked, seeing a fuss over the elf by the fire. "What is wrong with Mr. Legolas? He said he was going over to speak to Strider about the Shire."  
  
Arwen assured him that the elf was fine and that Aragorn was taking care of the poison that had entered his wound. The hobbits were silent at the word 'poison', each glancing toward Frodo with fear. She promised them that poison was curable, once discovered.  
  
"Sam, what did Legolas need to discuss with Strider about the Shire?" Pippin suddenly asked.  
  
The hobbit quickly related his tale to his companions, drawing gasps from both of them. "We must go there then! What are we waiting for? Our home is in danger, we all know that the hobbits are not soldiers, they will be no match for the orcs!" Merry had jumped to his feet, fear in his voice.  
  
Aragorn called from where he attended the fallen elf. "Merry, easy my friend. We are well aware of the danger and we have already planned our course of action. We leave for the Shire at first light with the men of Gondor and a contingent of the Rohirrim. We will not let your people stand alone."  
  
Merry was slightly relieved, but his heart still ached at the thought of the Shire under attack by orcs. It was bad enough when they returned from the quest to destroy the One Ring to find the Shire under the control of the Big Men.  
  
_Please, I hope we arrive before it is too late. I could not bear losing the Shire; it is the only home I have ever known. It is what we fought so hard to save during the War._ Merry tried hard to stay calm, but his nerves were on fire. Finally, he sat down and buried his face in his hands. He felt the light touch of Arwen and relaxed a little, leaning into her and letting tears fall.

* * *

**A/N: I know, you are probably saying, "HEY YOU CAN'T STOP THERE! WHAT HAPPENS TO THE HOBBITS!?" Don't worry, all in good time. Hope you enjoy this and we'll try to update soon!**

-Gwenneth


	11. Unexpected Meetings and New Concerns

**_Reviewer Responses for Chapter 10...  
_**  
**Deana:** Thanks for your continued support as usual! This is definitely not the last time I will hurt Legolas...it just gets better!! I might just have to stroll on over and read that "Race Against Time" you were talking about...   
  
**Amthramiel:** Hmm...that's an excellent question. Can he tell Gweluthand to go somewhere he isn't...Well, we are just going to have to wait and see now aren't we?   
  
**Kelsey:** LOL...I can stop there...and low and behold I did! BUT don't worry, in a few chapters you'll know what happens. I promise. Yes, Sam did go through a lot before he finally married Rosie, I can safely tell you I won't be killing her. And yes, I am liberal with my visions...ENJOY.   
  
**Mornflower:** Glad you like...where did I get the idea for the plot? Oh...right off the top of my head. I sat down, started writing and what I first wrote was not what you are reading now. It was more like, 'Let's kill all the Elves and have Legolas be last of his kind,' but then my beta read it and BOOM this wizard and this twisted plot came out. I must be crazy to take on a story of this magnitude! Keep reading!   
  
**Pirate Gyrl**: Yeh, poor Hobbits. We'll be getting back to them soon...stick with us!   
  
**Justpassinthru**: Is Arwen pregnant? Uhm...I take the Fifth Amendment here...can't tell you what's going on.   
  
**Queen Shadow:** I hope you like this chapter...and the next ones...You can try to give advice if you like, but I agree this story can be hard to predict in certain aspects. (And easy to predict in others...) If you want to become a good writer, just keep writing and you will automatically improve with practice. Thanks for the compliment...I appreciate it.

* * *

**Chapter 11: _Unexpected Meetings and New Concerns_**  
  
_Rivendell...  
_  
"Elrohir? Do you see anything? I am a little worried, we have not seen any border guards, and it is unlike _Ada_ to leave the borders of Rivendell unguarded." Elladan was behind his brother on a pale brown horse, straining his senses to see anything he could.  
  
"I do not see anything, Elladan. We are near to Rivendell; I too worry about the lack of guards. I can only hope that the fate that befell Eryn Lasgalen has not befallen our home as well. With the power of Vilya that Ada bears, I do not see how this could happen." He was silent now, as was his brother, as they both contemplated the implications of this.  
  
Slowly, Imladris appeared before them, strangely still and quiet. Both kept their thoughts to themselves, not wanting to voice their fears. Never had they seen their home so desolate. Where were all the elves? Where was Lord Elrond, their father?  
  
The horses nickered, not wanting to enter the city for some reason. The brothers had to coax them with soothing Elvish words. _That's odd_, thought Elladan; _the horses have never had reason to fear Imladris before. Perhaps they sense something we do not_.  
  
Entering the city, the twins were surprised to find no one in sight, not a single Elf, nor any other signs of life were visible and their worry mounted. Though there were no dead bodies strewn about, the twins knew the fate of their fair home, for they could still sense the lingering evil that the orcs had brought with them.   
  
"It is as we feared. Imladris has been attacked, just as Eryn Lasgalen. We are too late, my brother," Elladan said, his voice wavering with emotion. "We must find _Adar_; I do not see how this shadow could overtake him. He is too strong."   
  
The brothers hurried toward the Last Homely House and immediately headed toward their father's healing chambers and study, hoping to find the Elf Lord there.   
  
Entering the room, Elladan was met by the tip of a sword under his chin. "Who goes there?" A voice, edged with authority, came from the shadows to their right.   
  
Elrohir, who didn't have a blade to his neck, answered in a loud, slightly angered voice. "It is Elladan and Elrohir, sons of Elrond. This is our home, who dares to challenge us in such a way?"   
  
To their surprise, the being gasped in recognition and whipped the sword down and away from Elladan. "Elladan, _hir nin_ {my lord}! I did not know it was you! Please forgive my actions, but we are alone here and can not afford to be caught unawares by our enemies."   
  
From the shadows emerged Erestor, holding a sword at his side. The exchanged warm greetings and then turned toward the far corner of the room when someone cleared their throat.   
  
"King Thranduil!?" Elladan gasped, hurrying toward the Elf. "How did you get here?"   
  
He was about to go on when Erestor raised a hand and stopped him. "Peace, Elladan, Elrohir, I will tell you the tale, for the King is too weak to do so himself." He smiled and quickly added, "though he will argue he is just fine. Now I know where Legolas gets it from."   
  
Thranduil threw an annoyed look toward the advisor, but did not argue. In truth, ever since he and Erestor had perceived the hoofbeats approaching he had been rather unnerved and it had drained him. He had worried that the two alone would not be able to fend off an attack, should one have come to them.   
  
While Erestor brought the twins up to date on the situation, as well as the whereabouts of their father and Glorfindel, Thranduil dozed off, still easily wearied due to his injuries.   
  
"And so, they decided they had to go on to Minas Tirith and it was agreed that it was best to leave the King here until Lord Elrond returned. He was really in no condition to travel and..." he stopped suddenly at the sound of horses entering the valley.   
  
Surging to their feet, the twins glanced at Erestor. "We have company," Elladan said quietly, returning his weapons to their rightful places, preparing to see who was approaching.   
  
A hand on his shoulder stopped him. "Are you certain it is such a good idea to go out there, Elladan?" Erestor asked, worried that the young Elf would be harmed if it were enemies.   
  
"No, it's all right, Erestor." He smiled now. "Orcs don't ride horses and I doubt that anyone traveling with them would either. I am going to simply go see who it is; I will keep out of sight."   
  
His brother joined them. "I will remain here and help Erestor protect the King if the need arises, be wary _muindor nin_." (my brother)   
  
Nodding, Elladan hurried out the door and weaved through the corridor toward the courtyard. He stayed hidden behind a column, waiting patiently as Elves always did, until the riders came into view.   
  
Soon, two white horses and one black galloped through the gate and their riders came into full view. Elladan gave a cry of relief and hurried forward. "_Adar_!" he slowed upon recognizing the other two. "_Daernaneth_ {Grandmother}! Mithrandir! It is wonderful to see you all alive and well!"   
  
Lord Elrond leapt from the back of his black stallion and grasped his son's forearms, then drew the younger elf into a warm embrace, relieved to see his son alive and well, though his keen gaze quickly roved over Elladan, seeking any hidden injuries that the twins were prone to hiding. "Elladan, it warms my heart to see you well. When we arrived in Eryn Lasgalen and found the city destroyed and her inhabitants slain, we worried greatly for the safety of our realms."   
  
His eyes were full of sorrow as he glanced around, taking in that there were no Elves walking about and that his oldest son was the only one to greet them. Gandalf and Lady Galadriel joined them now. "Where is your brother?"  
  
"Elrohir is inside, _Ada_." The elder twin replied.  
  
"Elladan, do you know the fate of our friends?" the lady asked.  
  
Smiling lightly, Elladan gestured for them to follow him. "There is much you must be brought up to date on. Come, we will tell you everything."   
  
He led them back to where he had left his brother and Erestor. Opening the door, he assured them all was well. "El, it's all right. _Ada_, Mithrandir and _Daernaneth_ are here!" he relayed excitedly; standing aside to let them enter.   
  
Elrohir immediately embraced his father in greeting and smiled at the other two. "I am so very glad to see you all. Much has happened here."   
  
Elrond looked past his son to Erestor, and a frown came over his face at the sight of his long-time friend and advisor standing there with his arm splinted and in a sling to take the strain off of the broken bone. The elf lord stepped past his younger son and walked over to his friend, gently laying a hand on the splints and using his not inconsiderable healing gift to gauge the extent of the wound.  
  
Erestor backed away however, and dipped his head. "My lord. I am not the one needing your care. Estel has already cared for my wounds." He turned his head and gazed at the bed that was along the wall, under a large window, where Thranduil still slept lightly. "King Thranduil is hurt worse than I, there was little that Estel could do for him, and not much more that I've been able to do in the past week or so."  
  
Elrond also gazed at Thranduil, at the bandages encircling the other elf's chest, and the way that he was propped up against a small mountain of pillows. Seeing immediately what Erestor had meant, he stepped away from his advisor and moved quickly towards Thranduil, rolling up his sleeves as he went. "Elladan, bring me some hot water please."  
  
The elder twin did as he was bid, and also grabbed some clean, dry cloths. Elrond quickly washed his hands free of the dirt of the long road that he and the other two had traveled, and then laid a hand on Thranduil's shoulder.  
  
Thranduil woke slowly, but his blue eyes locked onto Elrond, and he smiled wearily. "Elrond." he nodded in greeting. "Estel and Erestor were right in predicting that you would come."  
  
Elrond nodded. "Of course. Rivendell is my home." Instructing the twins to wash quickly, he asked them to help Thranduil lean forward so that he could remove the bandages and check on the wound hidden beneath the white cloth. The elf lord's eyes raised in surprise when he saw the extent of the wound, which was still stubbornly refusing to heal.  
  
Elrond thought for a moment, then directed Elrohir to make up an herbal paste that would help the wound to close, and would also ease the pain that the deep wound was still causing Thranduil. Gently resting his hand over the wound, he closed his eyes and called on his inborn healing abilities, steadying and strengthening the already powerful energies with his Ring.  
  
The others in the room watched as Vilya lit up from within, the blue jewel shining brightly and small swirls of golden light coalesced in the air above the sapphire. Outside, the keen hearing of the elves could pick up the sounds of a strong breeze suddenly stirring the branches of the trees and blowing the scent of the rich gardens into the healing room.

* * *

_The next day...Aragorn's Company...  
_  
As they set out for their journey to the Shire, Legolas couldn't shake a feeling of dread. Something about their imminent journey did not ring true to him. _Perhaps the shadow lingers and is affecting me in my weakened state_, he thought to himself as he mounted Arod. Gimli was pushed up after him and soon had a hold on the elf's waist. _What is it that bothers me about this journey? Why do I feel we should remain or go to Gondor?_  
  
Shaking the feelings from his head, Legolas looked up to find Aragorn. Seeing the man, he nudged Arod and drew close to the king. "Do you feel this is the right course of action? I know I felt strongly that we should go to the Shire last night, but something is warning me today."  
  
Aragorn shook his head. "I feel nothing amiss. You were right, Graelath will attack the Shire. He knows they are defenseless."  
  
Legolas nodded. "And he knows we will go to their aid. Do you not think this is a ploy to lead us far from Gondor? So that Graelath will be able to attack Minas Tirith and Osgiliath when you are not near to counterattack?"  
  
The king thought for a moment, for the first time uncertainty creeping into his mind. _He has a point there. If I leave Gondor with only minimal guard, what is to keep Graelath from attacking it in our absence?_ Now Aragorn was in a quandary. He had no doubt that the Shire needed them, but now he did have a doubt. Perhaps Gondor needed him as well.  
  
Arwen answered the question for him. "Do you think that Graelath has enough orcs to spread them so thin? He will not be able to mount a large-scale attack on Gondor unless he sends none to the Shire. You can not think that three people having visions is not a sign."  
  
Legolas sighed. "Arwen has a point as well. Either place we go, we leave someone, somewhere, in danger. A hard choice it is." He glanced toward Faramir and Eowyn. "Perhaps sending them to Gondor would be wise."  
  
Aragorn looked up, seeming to only now realize that Faramir was with them. "Yes," he muttered. _Faramir showed his worth many times over, he would do well with the protection of Gondor if it were attacked in my absence. But what of the shadow, for he will not have Legolas to conjure the shroud..._ "Legolas? If I sent Faramir to Gondor, what would happen if the shadow befell them? Can you ask _gweluthand_ to protect Gondor if you are not there?"  
  
The elf prince faltered. "I do not know. I can try, but I do not know if it will work at such a distance. I think I need to be wherever I am protecting. I did not think of this." He was silent, contemplating. "I can ask it to, it is the most I can do for I will not leave your side."  
  
Aragorn frowned. _Either way, the Shire, Gondor and Rohan are all in trouble. If only we knew where this Graelath dwelt! We would be able to strike at him and perhaps kill him before he is able to destroy his opponents._ "Then I will send Faramir to Gondor, tell him to up the city guard and be wary. The first sign of the shadow, he must send word with haste to the Shire."  
  
The man knew this would do little to help Gondor if it was a target while he was gone. It took far too long to get from Gondor to the Shire and far too long to get back. If a shadow befell Gondor in his and Legolas' absence, he was not sure it would be able to withstand it.  
  
_Valar be with us this day. We are vulnerable and need all the help we can get._ Aloud, Aragorn called to Faramir. When the man came, he explained his orders. "You must return to Gondor. We have reason to believe that Graelath might attack the city in my absence, this attack on the Shire could be a diversion." He was silent for a moment. "Gather the soldiers and take them a good distance from the city. I do not want the shadow to befall you immediately. If an attack comes, take them to the city then, but not before it becomes necessary. Avoid contact with the spell as long as you can. Be wary, may the Valar protect you."  
  
Eowyn's face fell at the commands of the king. She would be separated from her husband. "Faramir, my love, please be careful. I will go to Helm's Deep with my kin, but I do not wish to hear of your death. As Aragorn said, if you avoid the shadow as long as you can, you may be victorious. Let us hope that Legolas' shroud can be wielded from afar."  
  
They said their farewells in private, far from the eyes of the others. Then Faramir rode with only two soldiers, back to Gondor, to await an attack on the city.

* * *

  
  
_Rivendell...  
_  
Most of the destruction caused by the orcs and Uruk-hai had been tended to by Aragorn and his people almost a week ago, but a gloomy air lingered over the city. Never before had Rivendell, a place of peace for all peoples, been so desecrated by the evils of Morgoth and Sauron.  
  
Elrond spent much of the next few days after his arrival tending to Erestor and Thranduil, concentrating his energies on helping the elf lord so that they could discuss their next plan of action once the Elven-King was strong enough. The twins, Gandalf, and Lady Galadriel tended to the smaller details of running the household.  
  
When Elrond finally judged Thranduil able to participate they all gathered in the Halls of Healing.  
  
Elrond took a deep breath and began. "Very well. It is time to unravel the mystery behind these attacks. As everyone here probably knows, a message arrived from you, King Thranduil, claiming that you believed that there was great danger heading towards Eryn Lasgalen, and that you requested the counsel of myself, Gandalf, and Lady Galadriel."  
  
Thranduil shook his head. "I sent no such letter, Elrond. I didn't even know that there was a threat to my people."  
  
Elrond took this information in, and frowned, but said nothing.  
  
"_Ada_?" Elrohir ventured to speak. "Elladan and I know part of the story as well. We were visiting Estel and Arwen in Minas Tirith, and Arwen received a letter from Princess Maranwe, which claimed that she had had visions of an attack on Eryn Lasgalen."  
  
Elladan nodded. "Arwen let us read it as well." The elder twin frowned, trying to remember. "I think that there was also something in the letter about Maranwe sending letters to you and to _Daernaneth_ as well."  
  
Elrond looked interested in this. "Maranwe sent us letters? We didn't receive them, so they must have arrived after we had departed, unless they were intercepted."  
  
Erestor shook his head. "No." He thought hard. "I am nearly certain that a second letter arrived from Eryn Lasgalen the day after you left, and I remember thinking that that was odd, but I placed it in your study with the rest of the paperwork."  
  
Elrond rose swiftly and disappeared for several minutes. When he returned, he was clutching a scroll that had been marked with the royal family's crest, though the seal was broken open from Elrond reading the letter. "Elrohir was correct. This is a letter from Maranwe." The elf lord unrolled the scroll and began to read.  
  
_To Elrond Peredhel, Lord of Rivendell, from Maranwe Thranduliel, Princess of Eryn Lasgalen:  
  
Greetings, my lord Elrond, and may the blessings of the Valar be upon yourself and your family.  
  
I am writing this letter to you in hopes of seeking aid in a matter which has recently been troubling me, and disturbing my dreams. I know that you have the gift of foresight, and I was hoping that you would have some advice or counsel for me in such a matter.  
  
I do not know if you are aware of this, but I also have the gift of foresight, inherited from my mother's side of our family. Lately, I have been troubled with visions involving the destruction of Eryn Lasgalen, and I feel like a shadow has descended on my heart. There is a threat looming to my people, but I do not know who to turn to, and I was hoping that you could help me.  
  
I am writing of this now, because I fear that the events that will lead up to the truth of my visions have begun. My brother Legolas arrived from his new realm in Ithilien yesterday, and another vision followed in his wake, and the dread I feel has deepened.  
  
I can not explain my fears in any other manner than this, because I do not know exactly what it is that I fear. The only thing that I have to guide me are my visions of the city being attacked, and my people slaughtered, but my visions are never clear enough to enable me to identify the attackers.  
  
I do not know if you can help me, my lord, but I have faith in your wisdom, and I hope that you can tell me what I should do. I have not spoken of these visions to my father or brother, because they are both extremely practical and less inclined to take such insubstantial visions as proof...but...my heart is telling me that I already may be too late in writing to you.  
  
I beg your assistance Lord Elrond. Please help me...help my people once you receive this letter. I am sending it by means of our fastest messenger hawk, and I pray that he will deliver this letter safely into your hands.  
-Princess Maranwe Thranduliel_  
  
Elrond sighed. "If I had only gotten this letter earlier, we might have been able to avoid this entirely."  
  
Thranduil was trying to compose himself, upon hearing the words written by his daughter, and her wisdom. She did indeed know him too well, and it was true that he was not one to normally accept foresight, though it probably wouldn't have mattered even if she had told him, for the shadow had been too strong to fight.  
  
Gandalf shook his head. "Very well. Erestor, can you explain what happened here during the time that we were gone?"  
  
Erestor nodded and began his part of the tale, informing everyone what had happened in the days following Elrond's departure, but he was unable to tell them much of anything, that all he could remember was observing Elrond's people enjoying themselves in the beautiful spring weather. Small celebrations and parties had been occurring everywhere, and after the War such light-heartedness was needed in order to banish the darker memories from only a few years ago.  
  
Erestor told them that he had been walking through the gardens, when he had been confronted by a huge group of orcs. He had received the broken arm when one especially large orc had grabbed his arm and flung him to the ground when he had attempted to flee back to the house and call out the warriors. That had broken the cheerful atmosphere and Erestor had fought back with everything he had, hearing the screams from the rest of the elves as the orcs moved through the city slaying the people. The last thing he remembered was the group of orcs that he was fighting pinning him to the ground and beating him until his world went dark, until he had woken up in the house, with Estel, Legolas, and Arwen bending over him, tending to his injuries.  
  
Elrond frowned after his old friend told his story. "Something came over all the people and made them cheerful, but it was broken when you were injured?" he clarified.  
  
Erestor nodded. "Yes. It was like waking from an exceedingly pleasant dream into the worst nightmare imaginable."  
  
Gandalf stroked his beard. "But what could cause such a thing? Not even Saruman was capable of casting such a spell, and Sauron has been destroyed. There is no other evil powerful or old enough to hold that kind of knowledge."  
  
Galadriel's eyes darkened. "Then perhaps we should turn to the old histories. Mayhap there is something that we have forgotten in our long years because we felt that it was nothing more than a legend?"  
  
Thranduil and Erestor glanced at each other, but it was Thranduil who spoke. "We think we know who is behind all of this."  
  
All eyes snapped to the elven king. "Who?!" Gandalf demanded urgently. "Who could this be?"  
  
Thranduil's eyes were sparking with anger, but he answered. "It must be the Black Wizard, for he is the only being with knowledge of such spells that might possibly still be alive. It has been years since I last saw him, but I will never forget his words at the time. '_I have no qualms with you now.'_ Those were his exact words."  
  
Galadriel and Elrond's eyes widened in recognition, but Gandalf frowned. "There is no Black Wizard among the Istari."  
  
Elrond shook his head. "Not among the Istari, my friend. Thranduil speaks of the Black Wizard Graelath, of the Great Wizard Council from the First Age. He was one of the immortal Ethaim, and no one knows what happened to him, because he was not slain when the rest of the Council was."  
  
Thranduil nodded. "He was not slain, because he was the one who did the slaying."  
  
Elrond looked incredibly furious, and the twins glanced at each other. It was rare to see Elrond like this, even they had only seen their father like this one other time, when the orcs had kidnapped their mother and beaten her badly enough that she had been forced to go to Valinor to heal and find peace. The elf lord quickly explained about Graelath to Gandalf and his sons, and slowly they all came to the conclusion that he must be the one that had done this.  
  
Gandalf spoke with respect and anger. "If it is this Graelath, I would like to know how he could trick the two strongest elves in Middle-Earth into leaving their realms with such haste, and how I too could have been fooled." He leaned on his staff and sighed. "What were we thinking? Of course we had no reason to not believe King Thranduil."  
  
Elladan ventured to speak. "What about Legolas, Erestor? What happened to him and Estel and Arwen?"  
  
Erestor sighed. "They feared that an attack would come on Gondor during Estel's absence, so they left Thranduil and I here and rode for Minas Tirith. Legolas wanted to stay, but he felt that he would be needed in the fight against Graelath."  
  
Elrond looked puzzled, but it was Lady Galadriel who answered, her voice soft and distant.  
  
"Legolas has abilities most were unaware of. I believe that he has some protection from the shadow."  
  
Galadriel, Elrond and Gandalf now looked to the twins to explain their part in the story. Elrohir spoke. "Estel and Arwen wasted no time when Maranwe's message came. They immediately rode to the city under the guise of making a state visit, and also sending men to Ithilien. We rode to Rivendell to inform you _Ada_, and we got here just before you arrived. We came with men of Gondor, but we met with resistance, a posse of orcs and lost our companions in a battle."  
  
Elrond exchanged glances with Galadriel. "What abilities does Legolas have that none of us were aware of?"  
  
"Legolas must know of his power. If they escaped unscathed, or even alive, he must have used magic." she said softly, a far-away look in her eyes.  
  
Elrond's eyes widened. "Legolas can work magic? I did not know of it. A welcome bit of news this is. If Legolas possesses this magic, it is possible he is a descendent of Cellnen."  
  
Thranduil shook his head. "There is no elf named Cellnen in our family line, Elrond. Not even on my wife's side."  
  
The others were silent, but Elrond spoke again. "Perhaps all is not lost. If Graelath is indeed the perpetrator, he is smarter then we thought, but not in complete control. Do you think he knows of the prince?"  
  
Galadriel was silent. "I can not say." she said. "I have had no indications that he might, but if Legolas continues to use his magic, Graelath will likely find out. He struck at the elves first because he does not wish to contend with our magic. It is the one thing that could be his downfall, if Legolas learns how to use his magic appropriately."  
  
Elrond suddenly had a far-away look in his own eyes, and he stepped to the balcony. The doors were opened to let the sun and wind into the room. The silk curtains were blowing hard, and the wind swirled through the valley. As the others watched, the sapphire ring on his finger began to sparkle and glow with a swirl of golden light.  
  
As the elf lord stepped out onto the balcony, the wind shifted, swirling around him and whipping his hair into a frenzy of dark locks. Elrond closed his eyes and stood there, not trying to contain the mess that the wind was making of his hair. Finally, the wind died away and he turned to the room's occupants.  
  
"Now I believe Graelath knows about Legolas, for I feel that Legolas has used _gweluthand_ to shield someone, though I can not say whom. I feel the air around here telling me it is so."  
  
Galadriel nodded slowly. Her eyes seemed far off, as if she was not here in mind. "Graelath will attack again. He will not attack men, he has seen they are too numerous and strong. He will draw men from Gondor and Rohan, and then attack when they are not able to protect themselves."  
  
Gandalf broke in, completing the thought. "Aragorn will ride to the Shire with Legolas, leaving Gondor and Rohan weak. They are riding into a trap. I do not think they know this; Graelath is undoubtedly cunning beyond most mortal comprehension, if he has survived this long. Aragorn and Legolas are too attached to their dear hobbit friends to see the danger of leaving Gondor and Rohan without leaders."  
  
Elrond spoke now. "I do not think King Eomer will go with them. It is more likely he will act as his uncle did, lead his people to Helm's Deep. But they are still in danger. Now, it is of the utmost importance to find where Graelath dwells. But we have nothing to go on."  
  
Gandalf sighed. "They will need our aid, yet Erestor and Thranduil cannot ride and we cannot leave them here alone. Either way, we have a confusing little tangle on our hands."  
  
Erestor frowned and looked indignant. "Who says that I cannot ride? I do not have a broken leg, and the wounds that the orcs gave me are healing. There is no reason why I cannot come along."  
  
Thranduil nodded. "I too am feeling stronger with each day that passes. Legolas healed me, and your aid has also done wonders for me, Elrond. If my son needs help, I will not be left behind. My people were killed because I could not fight off the shadow that engulfed us, but I will not abandon my son."  
  
Elrond looked about ready to protest, since he was after all the most skilled healer among them, but Galadriel cut him off. "We must make haste, and they are elves, they will be able to heal on the journey. Right now, getting to the Shire is of utmost importance."  
  
Elrond sighed, not willing to argue with his mother-in-law. "Very well, but this goes against my better judgment."  
  
Erestor nodded. "Lady Galadriel is correct. We must make haste."  
  
Elrond nodded. "Then we shall ride to the aid of the Fellowship, before it is too late." 


	12. A Healing and A Loss

**_Reviewer responses for Chapter 11:_**

**Mornflower:** Yep..trouble will be brewing soon. HEHE. Hope you like this post...

**Tonianne:** Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed the vacation and sorry to hear you were sick.

**Gozilla: **Thanks**!**

**Kelsey:** I don't think Legolas really knows Graelath's feelings...but he IS perceptive I guess. The journey will be hard...but you shall see how it becomes easier for at least ONE of them...and as for Arwen..evil grin wait and see...

****

* * *

**  
  
Chapter 12**: _A Healing and A Loss_  
  
_A few days later_...  
  
Legolas and Gimli had never been to the Shire and Merry and Pippin delighted in telling them of it. "Oh, you will love it, Gimli!" Pippin laughed. "There is plenty to eat, all day long, and plenty of ale! And you will love the trees and fields, Legolas! We do not live in a cave, after all!"  
  
The elf smiled. "The Shire does sound like a wonderful place, Pippin. I am certain we will enjoy it. But the trip is not all fun and games, for we ride to the Shire to protect it from attack."  
  
The company had slowed to a trot; they needed to give the horses a break. Already, they had been riding for a few days and many of them were growing weary of the little rest and long hours riding.  
  
Gimli was grumbling about the horse's uneven gait and how he longed to be on his feet. "We have feet for walking you know!" He muttered to no one in particular. "We were not made to ride on beasts such as this one!"  
  
Legolas laughed. "If you really want to walk, Master Dwarf, by all means do so. But I doubt you will reach the Shire in three months time if you do!" His comment was met by laughs from the hobbits and a grunt from the dwarf.  
  
"Just like an elf to enjoy the company of a horse. For someone who walks with such ease, you sure don't do a lot of it. If I remember correctly, elves do not even leave footprints; you were made for walking!" Gimli was happy with this retort.  
  
But Legolas was undeterred. "We leave impressions, just not large holes in the dirt like dwarfs who may be short but weigh a lot. True, we may have been made for walking, but we are smart and know we cover greater distances on a horse."  
  
Gimli groaned. "Smart. Yes, I am not saying riding a horse isn't smart. Just somewhat annoying, as well as being a literal pain in the backside." He shifted now, showing Legolas the real reason for his complaints.  
  
"Oh, I see." The elf said, chuckling. "You have what I like to call, 'rider's rear', which is something that affects inexperienced riders. Funny, it doesn't seem to bother me at all."  
  
The hobbits were laughing so hard now that it seemed like they would fall off the horses. Gimli turned a brilliant shade of red at the term "rider's rear" and huffed. "Rider's rear, my foot. This is the only horse in this whole group with such an uneven gait! It is his fault, not my inexperience, which gives me this pain."  
  
Arod suddenly reared, throwing Gimli right off his back. Legolas tightened his legs around the horse, wincing at the pain it caused, but keeping his perch on the animal's back. Gimli, now sitting on the ground, looked at the horse with loathing. "Why you!"  
  
Legolas glared at him with a look of warning, stopping the dwarf's impending tirade. "I would not insult him again, Gimli. He may not let you ride him and you'd have to ride with one of the soldiers." Legolas now turned his attention to the stamping horse and spoke to him in Elvish. Soon he looked up smiling. "Arod will once again carry you, if you apologize."  
  
Gimli grunted. "Apologize to a horse!? I don't speak your tongue, Legolas, he wouldn't understand me anyway."  
  
The elf shook his head. "He will understand your tone, so make it sound like you mean it."  
  
Gimli stood at the horse's side now, sighing. "All right, Arod, I am sorry for insulting you. I am unable to admit that my own pain is my own fault. Please forgive me." The dwarf's tone was sincere and the horse nickered, tossing his head back a little.  
  
Legolas offered Gimli a hand up. "That was good, _mellon nin_. I did not think a dwarf would be able to do such a thing as apologize to a horse."  
  
Gimli glared at the elf. "We are not so stubborn that we can not adjust to the situation, Master elf. I knew if I did not apologize I would be walking to the Shire and as you so elegantly pointed out earlier, it would take me over three months to get there. We dwarves do know how to adapt."  
  
Legolas couldn't help one more jest. "Well, if you are so good at adapting, adapt to Arod's gait." He tensed, waiting for the smack he thought he would get from Gimli. Instead, he heard a low mutter.  
  
"Elves..." The prince smiled; satisfied that he had won this round.

* * *

Aragorn slowed the column to a stop, wearily setting up a watch rotation for the night and instructing some of the men to water and feed the horses. He turned his attention to Frodo and Arwen, helping the hobbit off the horse's back.  
  
"How are you faring, Frodo?" He asked as he set the hobbit down next to the horse. "Do you feel pain? Are you lightheaded?" Concern was evident in his voice.  
  
Frodo slowly spoke. "Your herbs have helped mask the pain. I feel as well as I can expect to in this situation. I would not venture to walk about yet; I feel I would topple over. The riding has not done me a lot of good!"  
  
The king of Gondor nodded gravely. "Yes, I thought as much. Such hard riding has no doubt affected all our men with wounds." Speaking of wounds, Aragorn turned around to locate Legolas. Word of the mishap with Arod and Gimli had reached the man and he wanted to be certain Legolas had not injured his leg further by gripping the horse.  
  
Seeing the Elf off to the right side of the camp, he looked to Frodo and said, "Would you like to camp out near Merry, Pippin and Sam? They are with Legolas."  
  
The hobbit managed a slight nod and Aragorn lifted him easily and bore him to where their companions were making a small fire. Legolas had laid out a blanket and was seated on it, humming a tune to himself.  
  
Aragorn sat beside him after setting Frodo down beside Sam who quickly began tending to his Master. "Legolas? How is that leg? It is not bleeding?"  
  
The Elf looked at his friend and smiled. "No, it is all right. Now that there is no poison to hinder my healing, I am left with minimal pain only when jostled. Do not worry about it. By the time we reach the Shire it will be but a memory."  
  
Aragorn nodded again, watching Merry and Pippin prepare dinner. "When will you heal Frodo? I know that you already are planning to."  
  
Legolas smiled again. "I was hoping to do that now. Frodo looks to be fidgety. But he can not move as he is now and I have no need to heal myself. I thought I would lend him a little hand. We want him to be well when we arrive."  
  
The hobbits had heard the Elf and they were delighted with the idea. Sam looked a little wary, but he trusted the Elf with his life so he nodded that he too wanted to see Frodo better. All eyes turned on Frodo. "Please, I would greatly appreciate it," the hobbit mumbled, his wound was paining him.  
  
Nodding, Legolas hauled himself to his feet, careful to avoid any signs of the pain it caused him to feel. He was pretty certain he had convinced even Aragorn, who was normally so perceptive. He made it a point to discuss the man's lack of attention later.  
  
Sitting himself in front of Frodo, Legolas spoke quietly. "I won't hurt you, but I do need to touch it. Without contact, I can not do anything." When Frodo nodded in understanding, Legolas reached forward tentatively, lightly resting his hand on the now uncovered head wound.  
  
The hobbit cringed a little, but was surprised by how light the touch was. He looked into the Elf's eyes, momentarily mesmerized at the deep pools of wisdom that were buried there. Frodo felt his eyes locked on Legolas', he couldn't have torn them away if he wanted to. For a wild moment, he thought that someone much older and wiser than Legolas claimed to be was staring at him out of the prince's eyes.  
  
Then Legolas blinked and the odd sensation Frodo had felt was gone, but the deep blue pools that were Legolas' eyes remained, and Frodo found he still couldn't break his gaze. He had never noticed how much expression they held. Then, Legolas began to speak, and his eyes closed as he concentrated.  
  
Elvish was an elegant language, not gruff like the language of the dwarves, more musical then the Common Tongue. To those who didn't understand it, Elvish sounded like a song. Though Legolas wasn't singing, his words lulled the hobbits and Aragorn into a peaceful stupor.  
  
They watched in fascination as his hand began to glow light green. Legolas seemed to take no notice of this change, his eyes were closed and he continued to speak almost as if the words were coming straight from his mind, not his mouth.  
  
Frodo was still staring at the Elf, not sure if moving would hurt him. Just as suddenly as the light had appeared, and as easily as the Elvish words had lulled them, everything returned to normal. Legolas opened his eyes and looked into Frodo's before moving his hand.  
  
Even Aragorn gasped. The gash in the hobbit's head was completely gone.  
  
"Legolas? Did you mean to completely heal it?" Aragorn asked, resting a hand on the Elf's shoulder. "That would have taken a lot out of you."  
  
To his surprise, Legolas looked just as confused as he was. "I didn't mean to heal it completely." Looking at the hobbit's head, his eyes widened. "Hmm... that is rather interesting! But as I've said before, the magic seems to work of its own accord." He moved to stand, but suddenly found he couldn't.  
  
Realizing that the healing must have greatly affected him, he decided to stay where he was for the moment, discreetly glancing at himself to see if anything was bleeding. Seeing a bright red spot on his legging, he frowned. _You overdid it again, Legolas. You have a tendency to do that; perhaps you should have healed yourself first instead of trying to seem all mighty!  
  
_His gaze was quickly followed by Frodo who was about to speak when Legolas put a hand to the hobbit's lips. "Say nothing, please." He whispered, barely loud enough for Frodo to hear. The hobbit hated to do it, but after what Legolas had just done for him, how could he argue with the Elf? _Surely he knows what he is doing.  
  
_Legolas looked weak, but no one spoke on it. Even Aragorn was giving the Elf the benefit of the doubt, only insisting that he eat. He offered Legolas a bowl of stew filled with vegetables and meat they had brought from Eomer's feast.  
  
"I know you are weak from healing Frodo," the man said. "Something tells me you are going to need to eat to regain your strength."  
  
The Elf took the proffered bowl and slowly ate it. It was warm and tasted good. He was happy they traveled with hobbits that had an appreciation for food. He could always count on something good to eat when he was with them.  
  
Suddenly, Frodo put a hand on his shoulder. "You should heal yourself next," the hobbit whispered, knowing that no one but the Elf heard him. "You have been hiding your pains; you have been pretending you are fine when you are not. I can see it in your eyes; I saw it when you were starting to heal me. Please, my friend, heal your self next."  
  
Legolas saw the guilt in the hobbit's eyes. He sighed and smiled. "You are right, _mellon nin_. Do not feel guilty about this. I chose to help you. I will do as you ask and heal myself next. Thank you for your concern."  
  
Frodo nodded and smiled now. "Good. But I do not believe you; therefore I wish to witness you heal yourself."  
  
To his surprise, Legolas laughed and nodded. "Frodo, you are the first person to so boldly say you do not believe me! Because of your boldness, I have no choice but to acquiesce to your wishes. I will allow you to watch."  
  
Aragorn had heard the interplay between Elf and hobbit and it pleased him that Legolas was going to allow someone to watch him heal himself. At least this way they would know that he actually did.  
  
"All right, let me know when you will do it." Frodo turned away now and joined Merry, Pippin and Sam around the fire.  
  
Legolas beckoned for Aragorn to join him. "You seem worried, Estel. And to see you so off guard worries me in turn. Is there something wrong?"  
  
Elves are too perceptive, Aragorn thought to himself before answering. "A great many things have been bothering me. Arwen seems to not be herself lately; she is quiet and elusive, especially in the mornings. I fear that Graelath will attack Gondor and Rohan while we have a good number of the two kingdoms' forces with us in the Shire. I fear you are not well and we can ill afford you passing out on us during a battle." He sighed. "There is much troubling me, _mellon nin_."  
  
Legolas took a deep breath. "I see that. Well, I do not know what ails Arwen, but I can speak on the other things. I too feel that Graelath will use the attack on the Shire as a diversion. But both Rohan and Gondor are not easily defeated. Graelath will be fighting on three fronts. Plus, we do not yet know what has befallen Lord Elrond, Lady Galadriel or Gandalf."  
  
Aragorn's eyes widened. "Yes, why did I not think of them? So long I have been preoccupied with the quick turning of events. They are powerful, perhaps they know where Graelath is, and perhaps they are on their way to stop him."  
  
The elf frowned. "No, I do not think so. They would have destroyed him long ago if they knew where he dwelt. But something tells me we are soon to find out. We are only two days off from the Shire; I feel they draw near each day, for the earth is speaking to me, telling me that it is so."  
  
Aragorn paused before answering, watching Frodo and the other hobbits laughing at something Gimli had said. "We were right to go to the Shire. Of the three realms Graelath will attack, they have the least defenses. Rohan has the fortress and some horsemen. Minas Tirith is a gated city, well equipped to defend itself, and Osgiliath has the river as a defense, which should buy the people time to get to Minas Tirith if it is attacked. The Shire is little more then farms."  
  
Sighing with fatigue, Legolas nodded in agreement. "You are right. The Shire is where we belong now. But, to speak on your last matter, I am quite weak and need to rest now. I hope I will be able to heal myself in the morning, before we ride on to the Shire. I do not wish to arrive there in this condition."  
  
The king nodded and moved to stand. Legolas stopped him. you rebind this wound? I did not wish to worry the others, but I have not the strength to do it now." He gestured to his thigh, where the blood was already ruining another pair of leggings.  
  
Aragorn nodded. "Of course." He had expected something like this had happened when Legolas had overdone the healing on Frodo. But he was surprised that he had not noticed it earlier. He would have to be careful to pay more attention to his surroundings, not worry so much. It was dangerous to be unaware.  
  
Once he finished bandaging the wound again, Aragorn sought out Arwen and the company fell into fitful sleep.

* * *

_  
  
Sometime during the night_...  
  
"Awake! We are under attack!"  
  
The cry startled Aragorn from his slumber. He surged into a standing position, grabbing hold of his sword as he did so. Arwen was standing beside him, shaking sleep from her eyes, also holding her sword. He could see Legolas and Gimli, equally as confused as he was.  
  
"Where, who called the warning!?" The king shouted, looking around to find the threat. Suddenly, orcs poured over a nearby hill. There was no need to shout another warning; everyone had seen the threat.  
  
Legolas' arrows soared past the king and queen, sailing into the unprotected areas of the orcs. Aragorn, with a cry of "Elendil" clashed weapons with the nearest orc, spinning quickly and slicing the creatures' head off.  
  
He worried for Arwen, but the queen seemed to be holding her own for now. He felt Legolas and Gimli join him, the elf being a little unsteady, but not unable to fight. He frowned, knowing this was not what Legolas needed right now.  
  
Stabbing forward with his sword, Aragorn impaled an Uruk through the chest with the blade, then pulled it out and lobbed off a limb. These Uruk's seemed to be swarming around himself and his closest companions. They seemed to have a purpose.  
  
_But what IS it? What could they possibly be after_? He swung another blow at the nearest orc, crying out in fury as he did so. _How did they sneak up on us? Why didn't we have more warning? Who was on watch?_ Grimacing, he pushed all thoughts from his mind, worrying only about surviving this battle.  
  
Spinning on his heel, avoiding the blade of an orc, Aragorn searched for his friends, finding them in the heat of battle with Uruks. All of them seemed to be holding their own for the moment. A ring of guards had fallen alongside the hobbits, helping them and keeping them from becoming overwhelmed.  
  
Legolas and Gimli were fighting close beside Aragorn, and they were wrecking havoc among the lines, with Legolas' lightning-swift arrows taking out orcs before they could reach the encampment or the other soldiers, and Gimli guarding his friend's back and giving him time to employ his deadly bow.  
  
It wasn't long before the orcs were all either dead or fleeing. The soldiers began moving among the fallen, finding the wounded and marking the dead. The Fellowship grouped over by Aragorn, and all of them were present and uninjured, but there was one face that Aragorn immediately noticed missing. "Where is Arwen?"  
  
Legolas turned and gazed across the encampment-turned-battleground. His keen gaze pierced the darkness of the night, seeking the Queen, looking to see if she was tending to the wounded. "I do not see her, Estel."  
  
Aragorn didn't like the sound of that. He called to a group of guards standing nearby. "Spread out and find the Queen, immediately!" The soldiers responded instantly, fanning out and checking every fallen body, looking for any sign that the Queen was nearby.  
  
The Fellowship spread out as well, looking around in the vicinity where Arwen had last been seen, when the fight began. Merry and Pippin went off in one direction, and Sam and Frodo split up, taking the other two directions not being covered by Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli.  
  
Sam was concentrating on the faces of the fallen orcs and humans in the area, so when he tripped over a wadded up blanket that had been thrown aside in the chaos, he grumbled to himself, then froze as he saw something gleaming in the weak light cast by the many torches that had been lit, and he grew curious. _I wonder what that could be_, the Hobbit thought to himself as he quickened the pace a bit to reach the object. _A sword! I wonder whose it is_? Glancing around, Sam saw no one around and stooped to pick up the long blade.  
  
Turning it over in his hands, he saw it was beautifully decorated and incredibly light. He didn't know much of anything about swords, but something told him this weapon was made by the Elves. With this in mind, he turned toward the camp again and sought out Legolas.  
  
Spotting the elf slowly moving in his direction, Sam hurried over, calling out to the fair-haired prince. "Excuse me, Mr. Legolas? Could I talk to you for a minute?"  
  
Turning, the Elf was about to ask Sam to speak to him later, after they'd found Arwen, when he saw the Hobbit carried a long sword. A flicker of recognition passed through him. _Where have I seen that before? Surely that isn't the weapon of a Hobbit_. "Yes, Sam?" He walked slowly back to the Hobbit.  
  
"I...well...here...I found this in the grass over there," Sam said, offering the sword to Legolas. "It looked like something the Elves would have made. I figured you would know what to do with it."  
  
He hurried away now, feeling rather stupid. Legolas stood still, turning the sword over and over in his hands, momentarily forgetting Aragorn. _Where in the world do I know this from? It is so familiar to me for some reason.  
_  
He studied the blade. It was definitely of Elven-make, with a long recurved blade that was sharpened along the lower edge and tapered to a sharp point. In the flowing Tengwar letters, an inscription had been engraved along the length of the blade.  
  
_Aen estar Hadhafang i chatholhen, thand around dan i thang an i arwen_. {This blade is called Hadhafang, a noble defense against the enemy throng for a noble lady.} Then he had it. _Arwen! This is her sword_!  
  
Turning around he gazed at Aragorn's back. This would only sadden the man further, but it was Aragorn's right to have the sword, not his own, and he needed to know. He carefully continued on and covered the remaining distance between himself and his friend.  
  
"Estel. Come here a moment." He waited until they were out of earshot of the rest of the group. "I believe the orc attack was for a purpose. They came to kidnap Arwen. Graelath undoubtedly knows about you, you are the heir of Isildur. He knew he could control you through her. Why we didn't think of the threat earlier, I can not say. It is a horrible turn of events."  
  
Aragorn paled. "What do you mean, Legolas?" Then his gaze fell on the sword that the elf carried, and he gasped, half in denial.  
  
Legolas swallowed the lump in his throat. He held the blade of the sword, careful not to cut himself, offering the hilt to Aragorn.  
  
Taking the weapon, Aragorn studied it and his eyes betrayed his emotions. "Arwen," the man whispered, grief overcoming him again as he held his wife's sword tightly. He looked around frantically, intent on finding the trail of the orc or Uruk who had taken his wife.  
  
A hand on his shoulder brought him to a grinding halt. "You can not go after her."  
  
The man looked at Legolas as if the Elf was out of his mind. "What do you mean I can't go after her!? She is my wife; she has been kidnapped by our enemies! I must seek her, I will not lose her." He was both angered and upset, but Legolas held firm.  
  
"Estel, I know the turmoil in your heart. I love Arwen like a sister. But we can not go. We leave the hobbits to die if we do. You would be doing exactly what Graelath wants you to do. The orcs will not kill her; they will bring her to him. He will use her to control you, he will need her alive."  
  
Aragorn took no comfort. "He will torture her to control me. I can not allow it. You take the men on, lead them to the Shire, you don't need me."  
  
Legolas shook his head. "The men will not follow me, Aragorn. Their hope wears thin; they need you now more then ever. I can not do this and you know it. I need to conjure the shroud; I can not command your army." His eyes lowered and his voice wavered. "We must leave Arwen's fate alone for the moment."  
  
He could see the rage rising in Aragorn and feared his words would not stop the man from pursuing Arwen. But he knew in his heart that the king had to go on to the Shire. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, with the eyes of all present on the two of them, Aragorn spoke. "You are right. I hate the choice, but we must go to the Shire."  
  
His voice was hard and stern. He walked away from Legolas now. The elf felt a sting at his friend's harshness, but knew that Aragorn needed to be alone, needed to come to grips with what had happened. The Elf sought out Frodo. "Bear your witness now, _mellon nin_. I will need all my strength sooner then I thought."  
  
That said Legolas began to heal himself in preparation of the coming events.

* * *

**Well, I hope to post the next chapter on Thursday. My beta is away on vacation and we crammed to get a few posts ready for you! Sorry for the delays! We'll be back to more frequent posts soon! Please r/r!!! Reviews are GREATLY appreciated. **

**Thanks to all my repeat reviewers and welcome to those who just found this story!**

**-Gwenneth**


	13. Loss of Hope

_**Reviewer responses for Chapter 12:**_

**Mornflower: **You seemed a little...astounded...that Arwen was kidnapped. HEHE...good. Ur...I don't think killing her would be a good idea though, so sorry! Enjoy this post!

**Kelsey: **Interesting ideas you have there. Especially the second one...I have to admit it is a good idea, but not the right one. BUT, since I can't tell you anything else...I'll just have to say once again thank you for reviewing and leave it at that!!

**Pirate Gyrl: **Thanks for reading again...glad you liked them. Yup...Arwen's gone for time being...enjoy this.

**Chantal1409: **Welcome! I am glad you happened onto my story and I am glad that you are enjoying it! As for your question...they don't really INCREASE I'd say, but you'll see more of them.

**Queen Shadow: **Nuts huh? Thanks! You guessed it...something did happen to Arwen. Good perceptions you have there! Here is your update...I hope it is soon enough. As for the advice, don't worry about giving any...heck this thing is so complicated I'm SO glad I have a beta...sometimes IIIII forget whole scenes.

* * *

**Chapter 13:** _Loss of Hope  
  
_When Frodo was satisfied that Legolas had indeed healed himself he allowed the Elf to seek out Aragorn. But he vowed to keep an eye on him just in case he had missed something. Leaving Frodo, Legolas stretched his senses, trying to find his friend.  
  
He frowned, seeing Aragorn a ways from the camp, sitting with his head in his hands. Part of him warned him to stay away, but the friend in him told him to go. Aragorn might not need any words, but he would need a shoulder to lean on.  
  
Hurrying away from the others without being seen by too many, the Elf approached the forlorn king. He sat beside him, glad that Aragorn had not looked up at him. "_Mellon nin_."  
  
Aragorn looked up, his eyes were red. The man tried to hide his emotions, but Legolas knew him too well to fall for it. He said nothing though, simply sitting beside the man and looking out over the plains of Rohan.  
  
Finally, the king spoke. "Why? Why her? It isn't fair Legolas. Why couldn't he take me instead? She is innocent; she shouldn't have been here in the first place. I should have forced her to stay in Minas Tirith." Legolas sensed guilt in the man's voice.  
  
Slowly, he worked up the courage to speak. Choosing his words carefully, Legolas looked at Aragorn. "Estel, he knew he would never capture you alive. Even if he did, it would not serve his purpose. We all love Arwen, which is why he took her. If I know her at all, she would never have stayed behind, you know this. I have no words of comfort to offer you, only hope. I do not think she will die, I strongly feel we will save her in time."  
  
He knew it was a big leap of faith, but he had to assure Aragorn that Arwen would be all right, even if she wouldn't. In reality, he did not know what her fate was, had no way of knowing. He wasn't gifted with foresight very often.  
  
Aragorn looked up at him now, hope in his eyes. "You do not see her death then? What do you see?"  
  
The elf shook his head lightly. "I can not say, Estel. But I do not see her death." _If I'm going to make this up, I am going to keep it as simple as I can,_ he thought to himself._ My intent is to keep Aragorn on the mission, not to weave an intricate story of a fake vision.  
_  
His words seemed to give strength to the king of Gondor, who rose to his feet. "As much as my heart bids me to follow the trail and find her before she reaches Graelath, I know that I can not. Your words give me hope, _mellon nin_. We must press on to the Shire; we have wasted precious time here whilst I toiled with my emotions. Come, Legolas. We have innocent Hobbits to protect." He turned on his heel, avoiding the gaze of the Elf and hurried to organize the men.  
  
A grave smile crossed the elf's face as he watched Aragorn go rouse the men._ I hope I am doing the right thing, telling him that Arwen will be all right when I do not know if this is true. If she dies, will he ever forgive me?  
_  
Pushing the thought from his head, Legolas stood and sought out Gimli and Arod for the rest of the journey to the Shire. It wasn't long before Aragorn had the whole company mounted and riding off.  
  
Legolas turned back as they rode away, his heart breaking. _Please Valar, I hope we are not leaving her to her torment and death. I couldn't live without Arwen and Aragorn... and I fear he would not go on living without her._

* * *

_Graelath's Fortress...  
  
_"My Uruk captain succeeded then," Graelath laughed. The Crebain that had brought the news flew off to continue spying for the wizard. "Soon, I will have Queen Arwen of Gondor in my possession and I will then have control over King Elessar. He will do as I bid and Gondor will quickly fall, leaving only Rohan. And Helm's Deep will be no match for the combined strength of three orc armies!"  
  
The wizard eyed the map in front of him. "If only the Crebain had remained long enough to tell me whether or not Elessar pursued his wife or rode on to the Shire. That would be most unfortunate if he continued, it might foil things a bit, for I was planning on an easy victory there, I can ill afford losing too many troops."  
  
Crebain might be spies, but they weren't bright. They were only birds after all. But they traveled far faster then orcs or Uruks. Graelath looked at his map, fingering the section called the Shire. "So, once again the Shire-folk will determine the rise or fall of a Dark Lord. Only this time, the battle will come to them on their own ground."  
  
Graelath knew the importance of his next few moves. If I do not contain Gondor and the majority of the Rohirrim in the Shire, I will not have successful campaigns against the Rohan and Minas Tirith. My spy has yet to report to me on who is in charge in Gondor, it is a vital piece of information I am missing. The Rohan can hold out in Helm's Deep for a while, I will need to gang up on them with the other two armies. If King Elessar did not seek his wife, then the Shire will not go down easily, I was counting on the men being leaderless, or under a leader they would not follow.  
  
He sighed. "Men had to make this so difficult. If only they had not gone to the aide of that elf, I would have been in control of all of Middle-Earth by now. I hope he comes with Elessar to rescue the Queen, I will enjoy killing him."  
  
Graelath laughed now, not really worried that his plans would fail. No one knew where he dwelt; he had nothing to worry about.  
  
Or so he thought.

* * *

_Along the Brunien River...  
  
_"No more mists and smoke, no more, no more!"  
  
A dirty creature with no hair was singing an out-of-tune song as he practically skipped through the fields. He had long since left the Misty Mountains, having passed a few human towns, but not daring to enter them, headed in the direction he thought the hobbit towns were in. He had still not seen a single soul, which worried him.  
  
_What if there are no people, no elves, no one left in Middle-Earth? I will STILL have no one to talk to! That would really be a sad end to this journey I have partaken in. I have longed to speak to someone and tell my tales!  
_  
As he walked through the still fields along the banks of the great river, he longed for company of any kind. But what he got was completely unexpected. As he walked, a great shadow came over him, blocking the sun, and the small creature dropped to the ground in fright, covering his head with his hands and whimpering.  
  
"Easy, I do not wish to do you harm," came a voice from above.  
  
Risking a peek, Lowgala found himself face to face with a giant bird...an Eagle to be exact. He had heard of the Eagles in tales when he was a child, but he had never seen one. Curiosity quickly replaced his fear and he took his hands from their protective position over his head.  
  
"Who...who are you?" He ventured, sitting up, but still not standing. The Eagle, not really accustomed to perching on the ground, grudgingly did just that to ease the fear of the creature he had found.  
  
"I am Gwaihir, the Wind Lord. You resemble a hobbit, much like two I rescued from the ruins of Mordor not long ago. Are you of the Shire-folk?" The Eagle replied; interested in knowing if this creature was indeed what he had thought he was.  
  
Lowgala hesitated, not sure what to reply to the eagle. He wasn't a hobbit or a hobbit-relative, but something told him that he might be able to get the Eagle's help if he said he was. He decided quickly on the little fib. "Not exactly. I am a hobbit-relative. We are related but not one in the same. I hail from very near to the Grey Havens of the Elves." He stopped, seeing recognition in the eyes of Gwaihir.  
  
"Then we are friends. For if you are hobbit-kind, you are my friend. I will take you to Gandalf the White; I have word he travels to the Shire from Rivendell. He will be able to see you home. Not often do Eagles take beings on their back, but a friend of Gandalf is a friend of mine."  
  
The creature, for his part, did nothing to deny his friendship with this Gandalf. In all honesty, he had only heard fleeting rumor of a wizard by that name, but he had been Gandalf the Grey, not the White. Nor did he mention that he wasn't really a Hobbit or really a relative of the race. True, his people were of the same stature, but that was the only connection. So excited at the prospect of a ride home, he didn't want to lose the opportunity.  
  
"Thank you much, friend, Wind Lord!" Lowgala said. "I am forever in your debt, for I have long been lost in the mountains and have need of my home. If ever I can repay you, you need only request it."  
  
The Eagle did not request repayment, but did ask that the creature be gentle in holding on. "I do not wish to lose any plumage during this journey." He sounded as if he spoke from experience, but Lowgala chose not to pursue the matter.  
  
Instead, he carefully climbed up on the winged Lord and settled in, a little wary, for a long ride. The Brunien was far from the Shire, but it would be must quicker then if he had to walk the whole way.

* * *

Aragorn had not spoken a word since they had broken camp and set out on the last leg of their journey to the Shire. They were nearing the Sarn Ford where they would cross the Baranduin (Brandywine) River into the Shire.  
  
Legolas and Gimli, riding together atop Arod, both kept an eye on the forlorn King of Gondor. Neither spoke on the matter, each lost in their own misery at the turn of events and the kidnapping of Arwen.  
  
Finally it was Merry who broke the silence. "We are nearly there, aren't we, Legolas?" The Hobbit could have smacked himself for the stupid question. Obviously being from the Shire he knew the answer, but he hadn't really thought his question through, he had only wanted to break the silence.  
  
The Elf looked back over his shoulder to where Merry and Pippin were riding behind two Rohirrim. He sighed, not sure why the Hobbits had asked him, he was not from these parts. But he did know they drew near. "Yes, Merry, we are close. I believe we have only to cross the Baranduin at the ford and we will be within sight of the Shire."  
  
Gimli shifted behind him, drawing his attention. "And still, Aragorn has not said a word. We can not let him go on like this, wallowing in self-pity and remorse. He will not be fit for battle with his thoughts so muddled."  
  
The dwarf had a point. Legolas had been thinking just that for a while now, but he had not voiced his concerns. Now he did. "Yes, Gimli, you are right in that. But I fear nothing I say or do will convince him to change. He grieves for Arwen, as we all do, but his grief is far greater."  
  
He studied the back of the man at the head of the column. The man he considered one of his closest friends, who Arwen was willing to sacrifice her immortality for.  
  
_He is a strong man_, the Elf thought. _Unfortunately, he can be too strong for his own good. If only he would let someone in from time to time, he might be better off for it. Should I try, or would he only resent me for it?  
_  
The slump in Aragorn's shoulders answered the question for him. "Gimli, would you mind riding Arod alone for a short time? I wish to speak with Aragorn."  
  
The dwarf readily agreed. Legolas chuckled, he couldn't help but think this was exactly what Gimli had hoped would happen if he brought up the topic of the King's temperament. "Please, perhaps you can talk some sense into him. We can't have him fall in battle now."  
  
Sighing at the burden he was being charged with, Legolas glanced to the Hobbits and smiled lightly before he hurried off to try to speak to his friend.  
  
"Aragorn!" The call caught the king off guard. He had not been expecting anyone to break into his thoughts. He was about to tell the speaker to leave him be when Legolas materialized at his side. Not now. I do not wish to speak now.  
  
"Yes?" He answered aloud, not able to be callous to the Elf.  
  
Hearing the intonation of his friend's voice, Legolas chose his words carefully. "Do you have a moment? I wish to talk, but I do not wish to interrupt your thoughts." _I'm gambling, he might use this as an opportunity to tell me to go away_. Legolas hoped his friend wouldn't do that.  
  
Aragorn hesitated. The Elf didn't seem to be bringing up the subject of Arwen; perhaps he did just wish to talk. "Well, I suppose so. We have ridden hard since last night and the horses could use a little water break." He called to the nearest soldier, his captain. "Call a halt, we will water the horses."  
  
Legolas sighed with relief. _At least he is willing to speak to me... until he learns of my true intentions._ Smiling, the Elf waited until Aragorn had dismounted and entrusted his horse to one of the Rohirrim. "I have been thinking of what awaits us in the Shire." He paused; deciding the best way to get Aragorn talking was by talking business first. "I am fairly certain I will have no trouble employing the help of Gweluthand to lift the shadow from the Hobbits. What worries me is their lack of battle experience. We are sure to be attacked by orcs, would it be best to hide them?"  
  
Aragorn thought for a moment, thankful for something to take his mind off Arwen. After a moment of contemplation, he answered. "Yes. I had also thought it best to hide the Hobbits until the battle was over. But we should not underestimate them. After all, look at what our close friends are capable of."  
  
Legolas conceded. _A little too easily_...Aragorn couldn't help but notice how quickly the Elf agreed with him. It was almost as if this conversation was not the one he had intended to have. Understanding flooded his mind. Before he could speak, Legolas blurted out his real worry.  
  
"Estel, you are not yourself. Since Arwen's kidnapping you have lost all connection to the outside world. I fear it is _YOU_ we will need to hide away during attack, lest you would be killed by your lack of attention." He hadn't meant it to sound so brutal, but Legolas could think of no other way to drive his point home.  
  
Aragorn's eyes narrowed. "You think me weak then?"  
  
"No..." Legolas began, but he was quickly cut off.  
  
"I am not weak, nor do I require coddling in this coming battle. I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, even if I am worrying about Arwen's safety, or lack thereof."  
  
This time, Legolas lost his temper, which he rarely did. "We all care about her. Don't you realize that? But because of your deeper connection to Arwen, it is affecting you more. You have to fight it. You must not let your worries affect you. Even Merry and Pippin could have ambushed you while you rode with your head in the clouds."  
  
Aragorn did not comment for a long minute. Then he spoke, his voice calm, but resolute. "Do not lecture me, Legolas. You might be many years my senior, but in this I know better. No one will ever care more for Arwen then I do; therefore no one will ever be able to understand what I am feeling now."  
  
Legolas begged to differ. "Are you so arrogant? What of Lord Elrond, her father?"  
  
His words halted the impending tirade Aragorn had meant to let out. _True, he has loved his daughter far longer then I have even known her. Maybe I am being a bit unfair_. Bowing his head, Aragorn finally conceded. His walls of false bravado failed him. "You are right, Legolas. I do not know how to cope with her kidnapping. I never thought that I would lose her...I never thought she would be in real danger." He looked into his friend's eyes, his own were filled with despair and he hoped to see some hope in Legolas'. He did not.  
  
The Elf let out a breath and reached out to touch Aragorn's arm. "I can not lie to you _mellon nin_. I do not know what fate has in store for Arwen. Only that we will do all in our power to rescue her once we have eliminated the threat to the Shire. My feelings tell me she will be all right, my heart aches to go to her now, and my heart breaks to see you like this."  
  
To his credit, Aragorn straightened up. "We will get through this together, as we have done in the past, _mellon nin_. The Fellowship is more then just a group who set out from Rivendell two years ago to destroy the One Ring. We are now a fellowship of friends. Friends who look out for each other. I am eternally grateful you had the courage to stand up to me in my current state of being. Leave it to an Elf to put things rather bluntly."  
  
Legolas laughed now. Relief flooded his being. "I am most glad to hear you say that, Estel. If you need to let things out, do so. We are all here for you. We do not want you to bear this burden alone; we wish to share your pain as best we can. Please, do not let this hinder your ability to see reality. We can not lose you now. Arwen can not lose you."  
  
The two friends gripped each other's arms for a moment longer, each taking solace in the other's presence before they were joined by the Hobbits and Gimli. "So, you talked some sense into this reckless leader of ours?" Gimli asked, directing his question to Legolas.  
  
"Sense? I don't know about that. I doubt even I could do that. But he has seen reason, he will not let us down in battle. We no longer need to plot locking him up."  
  
The hobbits laughed, and for the first time since the kidnapping, a smile broke out on Aragorn's face.

* * *

**A/N: Sorry for the delay. I hope it was to your liking! Next post should be up by next week...hopefully...I was very busy today, seeing as it's my birthday and all...(well for five more minutes anyway...)**


	14. New Experiences and Surprises

_**Responses for Chapter 13...**_

**Deana: **Thanks for the birthday wish...and thanks for reviewing!

**Arayelle Lynn:** The rescue of Arwen...we'll get to that, don't you worry, BUT not yet! I think your Elrond and the others question will be answered in this post...

**Po-Pla:** Glad you liked that particular quote...I thought it was fitting. Yeh, Aragorn angst, I know...I love it! Glad you liked my other stories too...enjoy this post, it should be entertaining.

**Karone Evertree: **You are like me...read the whole story, til the last posting, THAN review. Glad you like it so far and hope you continue to read.

**Kelsey: **Ah...we have you stumped then! Can't figure out what's next? Hmm...your feelings a good one though...about Elrond and company...Gollum's nicer twin brother...cute nickname! Thanks for the happy b-day...it was fun!!

**Mornflower: **Bit early for Christmas tunes, eh? Frosty the Snowman!

**Chapter 14: New Experiences and Surprises**

_The Great East Road…_

"For goodness' sake, I am not going to break, Elrond!"

There were chuckles from the others as Thranduil huffed from atop his horse. He was riding with Elladan, but only because it was the only way Elrond would allow him to ride. The Elf Lord was constantly riding up to check the King's wounds and Thranduil, not one to show weakness, was getting annoyed.

"Now, Thranduil, please stop being so stubborn. That is a very serious wound and this jostling on horseback is not doing you any good," Elrond chided, hiding the smile on his face. "Let me look or I will call a halt right here and now and we will not move until you acquiesce to my request."

Thranduil grumbled something inaudible under his breath and frowned when he felt Elladan shaking with mirth behind him. "Think this is funny, do you, Elladan. If you think Legolas is bad when he is wounded, you just wait."

Erestor was also laughing, though he was much in the same position, sitting astride Elrohir's horse with the younger twin. It wasn't easy to ride a horse with a broken arm and Elrond had insisted on this arrangement as well.

As his Lord made his way to him, Erestor's laughter ceased and he too shifted and frowned. "I'm fine, Elrond."

"Now don't you start too," the Elf Lord laughed, reaching to examine his advisor's arm. They didn't bother to dismount, only walk the horses slowly. Time was still of the essence, but Elrond didn't want to neglect his patients either.

Once he had proclaimed both of them all right to travel a little more, the procession continued on at a slightly quicker pace, making their way toward the Shire. Most of the journey was in silence, but Gandalf had been watching Galadriel closely and finally voiced his question.

"Milady, what know you of the fate of Lothlorien? Have you foreseen anything?"

Galadriel sighed lightly, something she didn't normally do. "I have not really foreseen anything specific, Mithrandir, only that Lothlorien did not escape attack. I know not the fate of our people, nor do I fully know the fate of Celeborn."

Silence enveloped the group, each of them thinking of the fate of Lothlorien. They all knew that Lord Celeborn was of great power. Surely he would not be easily controlled by the dark spells of Graelath. But Nenya was not in his care, it was in Galadriel's and she had not been there at the time of the attack. What had befallen the elves of Lothlorien?

"You must not worry about him, milady," Gandalf said quietly, fully aware that the lady was not prone to worrying. "I am sure he is all right. Like Legolas, he probably avoided the full brunt of the spell. But that does not mean that the elves of Lothlorien lived. He must have been greatly outnumbered. There are many orcs and Uruk-Hai left in Middle-Earth."

Galadriel turned to look at him, sorrow in her bright eyes. "Uninjured he is not. But dead he is not either. Our paths will bring us together again, I have no doubt. But when this will occur, I do not know. He has a part to play in all of this, but what it is, I can not say."

They continued on in silence, Elladan and Elrohir exchanging glances. They traveled in the company of the most powerful elves in Middle-Earth and a wizard of unimaginable strength. Yet even they did not have the answers they needed most.

Suddenly, Elladan looked up into the bright sky, his eyes narrowed. His brother quickly did likewise. The Elves had heard something, there was no doubt there. Gandalf waited patiently for one of them to speak.

"_Ada_? I see an Eagle approaching. He seems to be heading in our direction," Elrohir said, his eyes never leaving the approaching speck on the horizon.

"Yes," the elder Elf answered. "I see him. Gandalf, I believe it is your old friend Gwaihir. He appears to have someone on his back. It almost looks like a hobbit!"

Galadriel was thoughtful. "The break we have been waiting for." She would not explain.

Gwaihir was soon upon them, hovering for a moment before settling down near them. "Gandalf, my friend. I have a creature here that looked like a hobbit, reminded me of those two I rescued in Mordor. Do you know him?"

When the wizard shook his head, Lowgala quickly jumped from the Eagle's back and scurried away from the bird, afraid it would be angry at his lie. "Please, do not hurt me. I didn't know him, only stories of him. I needed your help! I feared you would leave me if I said I didn't know him!" The small being was speaking quickly, shivering under the intense gaze of the Elves, wizard and Eagle.

Before Gwaihir could respond, Gandalf stepped forward. "Do not worry about that, friend. You look quite like a Hobbit, at least in stature. What are you? Where have you come from?"

Lowgala's head snapped up, a look of fear on his face until he fully saw who was addressing him. Gandalf was an old man, dressed entirely in white with a funny looking stick in his hand. Beside him stood a beautiful woman, also dressed in white. He was shocked to see she was an elf. As were the five beings behind her, all but one of whom was dark-haired and dressed in grey cloaks.

So happy was he to see friendly people, he jumped up and down in place, chanting loudly, "Finally, Finally, Finally!" He only stopped when the woman laughed and addressed him in a melodic voice.

"Please my friend, we have very pressing matters to attend to. If we can help you, we would much like to do so, that is if you would please answer Gandalf's questions." Galadriel didn't want to rush this being, but she knew that time was of the essence.

Lowgala stopped jumping and looked at her closely. "Yes." He said it in the Common Tongue, not sure if they understood his own language. "I have been lost in a shadowy place for many years now. I am the last of my race, the Noki of the Mountains, and I decided to look for people to accept me. I heard tales of Hobbits and their small size, so I wanted to go there. I got lost in the forbidden Mountains, the ones shrouded in mist that my people stayed far away from."

Elrond frowned. "You've been traveling the Misty Mountains, friend?"

Lowgala stuck his tongue out. "Do not say the name...I have been trying to forget about that place. Creepy, scary, dark! Oh and dirty too, look at Lowgala, I am filthy!" He smacked his pants, or what was left of them, sending a plume of dirt into the clear air around him.

Galadriel chuckled. "Then you are going where we are headed, Lowgala. To the Shire."

"Oh yes! That is what it was called. Been so long I must have forgotten," he said. He was anxious to tell his story to someone and who better then these elves? "I was lost for a long time you know...in that...place." He cringed. "Saw many things there, but one sticks out in particular. Very scary business."

Gandalf turned to the Eagle now. "Gwaihir, thank you very much for bringing Lowgala to us. We will take him on to the Shire now. Please bring my regards to all your people." The Eagle bowed his head and took to the air. Soon he was gone from even the Elves' sight.

The group wasted no more time and continued on their journey. Lowgala had no intention of being left behind. He was astounded by his fortune. He had travel companions and most of them were Elves. He had heard much about Elves and they intrigued him.

He hurriedly followed the group of elves and the wizard, eagerly jumping up on the horse they had been using to carry supplies. As annoying as his constant banter was, no one stopped him from speaking. They all knew he had been through quite a traumatic experience and they pitied him.

_The Shire…_

Hobbiton appeared in the distance and the hobbits grew restless. "We are nearly there, I'm starving!" Pippin whined, bouncing a little in the saddle behind the Rohirrim. "I have been LONGING for some good, old Shire-food! Can't wait to get to the pub and see Rosie!"

Sam shot his friend an evil look, which immediately brought laughs from the others. Merry came to his cousin's rescue. "He is just pulling your leg, Sam. Pippin is no match for the likes of you...Rosie isn't daft you know!"

Legolas had never been to the Shire and he gazed out ahead of them, wondering inwardly if the streets were normally so dead. "Where is everyone?" He asked, worry creeping up his spine.

"Uh, Legolas..." Pippin chided. "We can't SEE that well yet! Even if the entire Shire were out of doors, we would not be able to see them yet."

The Elf looked at the Hobbit with evil eyes. "Thank you, Pippin. For so eloquently putting it. I sometimes forget in whose company I travel. I was merely wondering why there were no Hobbits on the streets." He looked back toward the Shire. "Is that normal?"

The Hobbits exchanged glances, concern in their eyes. "Not really. I mean, unless there is a celebration we are unaware of, I don't think there would be NOBODY in the streets." Frodo said, not wanting to think of what they might find.

Aragorn interjected. "I do not see signs of battle, or a trail that orcs have already been here. I do not think that the Shire has been attacked yet. Perhaps there is a celebration going on. Where would they all go?"

As the King spoke, they rounded a small hillock and were forced to pull their horses to a stop, as several small children ran across the road, laughing and trailing ribbons behind them. Once the children had crossed the streets, they moved on, and now they could see the hobbits. There were small groups of them arranged on both sides of the road, feasting and drinking.

The party slowed their horses, but continued down the road. Aragorn looked around and sighed. _This is going to be harder than anticipated, if we can't gather them all together._ "Is there any kind of place nearby that is large enough for us to hold a meeting?" Aragorn asked the hobbits.

Merry and Pippin were about to answer when Legolas laughed. "I believe so, Estel. Merry, is there a tavern nearby? Say, just over that hill?"

The Hobbit's eyes widened. "Well, yes. The Green Dragon!"

The others waited for the Elf to explain. "I can hear quite a lot of banter from over that hill. Seems like the shadow has overtaken the Shire, we are beginning to feel its affects, are we not?"

No one wanted to admit it, but they were beginning to feel a bit odd. Aragorn nodded, "Yes, we are beginning to. But we need not call on the shield just yet. First we should get to the Shire and then call on Gweluthand."

Legolas nodded in agreement. No sense calling for help until they needed to. He was not sure if the air shield enjoyed being called on, but something told him it didn't want to waste it's time if it was not really needed yet. _Does the air even keep track of time?_ He wondered. _I can not imagine that Gweluthand would be upset if we were to call on it a little earlier then needed, though I do not plan to._

Suddenly, to his great surprise, a feminine voice sounded in his head. _: Do not think that I do not have feelings, young Elf, for I do. It is a lot of work to shield you all from the Ethaim...do not take it lightly. :_

Legolas' eyes were wide with wonder. He had frozen when he heard the voice in his head and Gimli was shaking him. "Legolas! Hey you Elf! What in the blazes are you doing? We must keep going!"

Aragorn turned to see what Gimli was yelling about now and noticed a distant look in Legolas' eyes. "_Mellon nin_? What is it? Do you sense something?" He was genuinely concerned, which is why he was startled when Legolas suddenly laughed.

The prince, seeing he had an audience, began to explain himself. "I was thinking to myself that the air shield could not really have feelings, and that it wouldn't mind if I called it too early, since why would the air have reason to worry about time? Well, she answered me and sure taught me a lesson."

"It talked to you?" Gimli asked, no longer urging the Elf to hurry on. "What could the air possibly have to talk about?" He was a bit gruff in his statement and to Legolas' surprise, Gweluthand decided to answer for him.

_: Please, Thranduilion, tell that dwarf this for me. He had better show some respect for me, lest I may choose to shield him less strongly and let him fend for himself. This is something I do because you ask it of me and I am bound to you, but I am not bound to do 'everything' you say. :_

Legolas relayed the message to his comrade and Gimli immediately hung his head and spoke. "Please, forgive me Gweluthand. I am sorry. Being a dwarf it is difficult to grasp the love of nature that Elves hold so high. I will not mock or disrespect you again."

Gweluthand was appeased and Legolas nudged Arod to go on to the Shire. He contemplated the event in his mind as they rode. He had not expected the air shield to have feelings, nor did he expect her to be able to speak to him in his mind, or hear his thoughts.

Soon, the group crested the hills and was within sight of the Green Dragon pub. Legolas let out a laugh at the sight that met their eyes. He didn't know why he was so surprised, after all, he knew how much food and drink Frodo, Sam, Merry, and Pippin could consume. This however, was beyond his experience.

Everyone was plumb drunk and the children were running rampant in the streets, playing games and screaming with laughter. If it had been under any other circumstances, the visitors might have laughed. But they knew that this was a result of the Ethaim spell.

"Legolas? Do you think we ought to give that shield a call now? I mean, it will take a long while to convince these people anything is wrong, especially when they are stone drunk!" Gimli grunted as a small Hobbit child came to the leg of the horse and jumped up and down.

"Look at the beard...he's got a really long beard! Just like Gandalf!" She cried, pointing Gimli out to the rest of the children who quickly encircled the Elf and Dwarf. "Oh, and he's an Elf! Wow! I never seen an Elf before!" cried another child, pointing up at Legolas, who shifted uncomfortably under the intense gaze of the children.

Aragorn laughed at the plight of his friends and came to their rescue. "Yes, Legolas, you might want to call on her now!"

Hearing the Elf's name, the kids jumped up and down and grew louder. "Leggy lass! That's a funny name! Is that really your name?"

The Elf frowned. He wanted to tell them how to properly pronounce his name, but knew it would be futile. They were too excited and too shrouded to care about much but their fun. So he spoke aloud to Gweluthand, in his own language, which lulled the children to silence.

"Gweluthand, help us once again and shield these Shire-folk from the shadow of Graelath, the Ethaim." His words were quickly heeded and he saw the light blue mist begin to form. This time, Gweluthand spoke to him.

_: I will be able to shield you for a time, but you had better hope the orcs will attack within the next day or two, lest I will begin to diminish. I have needs of regeneration. :_

This worried the Elf, but he had no choice. They needed to get the Hobbits sober enough to talk reason. The banter had stopped as soon as Gweluthand had made her presence known and now the Hobbits were eying the newcomers warily.

Finally, one of them spoke. "Hey, you there! Who are you and how did you get into the Shire?"

Sam jumped from the back of the horse he had been riding, quite a long fall for a Hobbit, but it didn't seem to bother him. "You must know who I am, Dad. Surely you can not forget your own son!"

The Gaffer's eyes suddenly cleared. "Samwise! Where have you been? We were looking all over for you, wanted you to join us for the party!"

He clasped his son's hands and smiled at Frodo, Merry and Pippin. Then his eyes widened as he took in the long line of soldiers, the king of Gondor and the Dwarf and Elf. "You brought some friends?" He muttered, eying the army suspiciously.

Sam took his father by the arm and asked him to bring the heads of all the families in the Shire to the Green Dragon. Then, he turned back to the others and explained. "That way, you will be talking to the leaders. They can control the people a bit better I'd say."

Aragorn praised the Hobbit's judgment and Legolas took this opportunity to dismount. He had forgotten about the Hobbit children who were still crowded near Arod. As soon as the Elf was on the ground, they surrounded him and began to ask questions.

"How old are you? Are you really immortal? Can you fly?" Legolas looked at Aragorn with pleading eyes.

The man laughed and walked over to the group. "Little ones, if you wish Legolas to speak to you, you must ask him questions one at a time."

That was NOT what the Elf had in mind! But he saw he was not going to be left alone until the hobbits had exhausted all their questions. Gimli laughed and Legolas glared at him. "I'm fairly certain you will be next, _mellon nin_!" The Elf said, satisfied by the look on Gimli's face at his words.

"All right!" the Elf called above the children's voices, quieting them. "First question. How old am I?" That said he launched into a question and answer session, fielding things from his age to his favorite song.

_Meanwhile…_

Movement. Nausea. Pain. Everything seemed to hurt and the bouncing was not helping. Arwen knew she was close to consciousness, but she did not remember what had happened or why she hurt. _Where am I? This does not feel like the gait of a horse!_

She forced herself to open her eyes, momentarily blinded by the light that flooded in. As her vision cleared, she saw she was looking downward, at the ground. Something was carrying her over it's shoulder. Glancing at the legs of the creature she gasped.

_Yrch! I've been taken prisoner! _The Queen would recognize the black skin and heavy armor of the Orcs anywhere. _How have I been taken captive? Where are the others? Are they dead? They can not be dead! _

A million thoughts ran through her head and would have continued to if the Uruk leader hadn't realized their captive was awake. "So you grace us with your presence Elf! How nice of you to come off your pedestal!"

Arwen cringed. The hate the Orcs held for Elves was legendary. She was injured and alone, unarmed and completely at the mercy of these Orcs. It did not sit well with her. It dawned on her that she might be alone for a long time.

_Estel could not come after me. He has the whole of the Shire to protect. I know in my heart he would not let them all die. But it must be killing him to leave me to my torment. _She shut her eyes as another wave of nausea overtook her. _It must be morning. I always seem to be sick in the morning these days._

The Uruk, seeing Arwen preoccupied, slowed the group to a stop and instructed the Orc to let the Elf down. He did so, rather unceremoniously dumping her on the ground. She gritted her teeth at the impact. Her head swam and ached and she could feel numerous bruises from the rough journey. Aside from the head wound, which was oozing blood down the side of her face, she didn't seem to be injured.

The Uruk leader approached, his weapons drawn. "You will listen to what I say and not argue. I have been instructed to take you to my master and I will. Unfortunately, he wants you alive." The creature bent in close now, his stinking breath made Arwen shy away. "But he did not say unharmed."

Laughter broke out among the Orcs and Arwen swallowed hard. _Please make this journey be a short one!_

_Hobbiton…_

Once Legolas had satisfied the curiosity of the children, they did as he figured they would and ran toward Gimli. To the dismay of the Dwarf, the children were just tall enough to reach his beard and reach it they did!

Gimli, protesting fervently, looked toward his friend for help. Legolas laughed at his plight, shrugging his shoulders. "You laughed at me, now see what I had to deal with!"

"Yes...I did laugh," Gimli retorted. "But you stand a bit taller then I and this was not a problem for you." His eyes were pleading, though the Dwarf would never admit that he wished for someone to intervene. The Elf sighed lightly and walked over, gently extricating a child's hand from Gimli's beard.

"Don't you all know the story?" He said, drawing the attention of the children. "To touch a Dwarf's beard against his will is not a good idea. Dwarves' beards are magical, if you touch them and he doesn't want you to, your hands will turn green for weeks!"

Immediately all the children looked at their hands with gasps. None were green, but Gimli quickly caught on to Legolas' trick. "See here kids, no touching the beard now. Wouldn't want you to have green hands."

Seeing that the Dwarf was better off already, Legolas sought out the others. He found them inside the Green Dragon tavern awaiting the last of the heads of the families. "Once everyone is here, we will brief the Hobbits on the situation and decide on the best course of action," Aragorn whispered to the Elf as he joined them at the table.

Legolas saw Sam, sitting at the bar, chatting with his wife Rosie. He moved over to the two Hobbits and patted Sam on the shoulder. "This must be the Rosie you speak so fondly of," the Elf said, smiling.

Sam blushed a little and nodded. "Rosie, this is Mr. Legolas, son of King Thranduil of Eryn Lasgalen. He is the Elf I spoke of, who accompanied Mr. Frodo on the Quest to destroy the Ring."

Rosie smiled. "Very pleased to meet you, Sir." She spoke with deference due to a royal, but Legolas begged her to dispense with the formality.

"You are the wife of a dear friend, Rosie. There is no need to speak so formally. Please call me Legolas, for it is my name and I need no special title." He smiled when Rosie agreed and then sat down beside Sam.

Quickly, another Hobbit whom Legolas recognized as Sam's father, the Gaffer, hurried over. "A real live Elf. It is a great pleasure and honor to meet you, Sir Elf." The Hobbit was excited, that much was sure, and Sam rolled his eyes at his father's bumbling.

"Dad, you are embarrassing me," he muttered under his breath.

"Oh, nonsense!" The Gaffer said, his eyes never leaving Legolas. "I am Hamfast Gamgee, but everyone calls me the Gaffer. I am Samwise's father."

Legolas smiled, glancing at Sam for a minute before replying, "It is a pleasure to meet you as well. My name is Legolas Greenleaf."

The Gaffer would have continued but suddenly, Aragorn called from a large table that had been set up for the meeting. "Please, if everyone would gather round now, we can begin discussing the situation. We cannot tarry, this is very important and time is of the essence."

Legolas stood immediately, followed by Sam and the Gaffer. The Elf took a seat beside Aragorn, turning as Gimli walked through the door with a throng of children in tow. Seeing the Dwarf's plight, Rosie took pity on him and shooed the kids away.

Gimli thanked her profusely until Aragorn cleared his throat and looked pointedly at the dwarf, and then he blushed and hurried to take his seat beside Legolas. The whole group now assembled, Aragorn spoke quickly. "There is a great threat approaching the Shire in the form of an Orc and Uruk-Hai army." He raised his hand to hush the murmurs. "Let me finish please."

The whispers quieted. "A wizard of the Elder Days has resurfaced and he is attacking all of Middle-Earth, one realm at a time." The King of Gondor turned to Legolas as he continued. "He sent his first army to the Elven realms. The Elves suffered a heavy loss after an attack on Eryn Lasgalen, for the Orcs wiped out many of their number. When Gondor received notice of the attack on Eryn Lasgalen, we rode to their aid, finding only Legolas here and his father, King Thranduil, alive."

This time, the mutters of the Hobbits grew loud and they did not heed Aragorn's calls to be quiet.

"If you wish to avoid the fate of my people, you must be quiet and listen to King Elessar now!" Legolas' melodious voice rang out above all the banter and a silence fell over the tavern.

All eyes were on the Elf. "What the King speaks is true. A shadow befell my people, blinding them from the threat of attack. It was strong enough to blind even my father, an Elf who is not easily overtaken." Legolas closed his eyes for a moment, gathering the strength to say the next words. "My older sister was brutally killed in the attack, and my father was badly wounded. I bid you heed the King's words, for time grows short." He sat back down, deferring to Aragorn.

Smiling thanks to the Elf, the Man continued. "This shadow is a spell cast by the wizard I was beginning to speak of. His name is Graelath and we have yet to discover where he hails from. Until then, all we can do is shield ourselves from his spell and defeat his army."

"Shield, spell, what is this talk?" Voices popped up from all corners of the table, asking questions, but not really taking anything they were hearing seriously.

Raising his voice, Aragorn called out, exasperation beginning to take its toll. "That's enough. Legolas, please explain the shield."

Taking a deep breath, but not bothering to stand, the Elf nodded. "Graelath is of an ancient race, the Ethaim. Thousands of years ago, a Silvan Elf, Cellnen, discovered the only way to shield himself from the spells of the Ethaim. Something called Gweluthand, which means "air shield" in the Common Tongue."

He waited until the mutters died down. "I am able to call on this shield to protect us from the spell, if you look outside you will notice a pale blue mist, which is Gweluthand."

Eyes darted to the nearby window of the tavern and gasps were heard all around. They had seen the mist. To Aragorn's surprise, they began to laugh. Drunken Hobbits began to yell now. "Air shield, have you been smoking pipe weed, Mr. Elf!?" Someone called out.

Legolas closed his eyes as Gweluthand made herself heard again, not happy that the Hobbits seemed so ungrateful for her help. Legolas didn't know what to do, but he sought desperately to reassure her, promising her that he would talk sense into them; they were just confused, drunk and scared.

_Please, Gweluthand, do not take what they say at face value, they are inebriated and have been shadowed_, Legolas pleaded, eyeing Aragorn as he did so. _Do not hold their words against them_.

_: Why should I shield such ungrateful beings? Even if they are a bit drunk, they should at least respect you and the King of Gondor. Why should I not hold it against them, Legolas? :_

The Elf sighed, racking his brain. _The Hobbits are so drunk that everything seems unreal to them. I promise you that they will greatly appreciate your help and will show you utmost respect once they are sober, Gweluthand. Give them that chance or else they will die. I, for one, will not stand by and let them be slaughtered._

For a moment, Gweluthand didn't respond and Legolas exchanged worried looks with Aragorn. As the Elf desperately tried to assure Gweluthand so that she would not abandon them, Frodo, taking a cue from the look in Aragorn's eyes, piped up. "Haven't any of you been listening to King Elessar or Prince Legolas?" The noise quieted. "What they say is true! This Graelath is dangerous! The Elves in Eryn Lasgalen and Rivendell are dead because of him!"

Seeing that Frodo was making headway with the Hobbits, Pippin joined in. "Yes, and that isn't the whole of it! They nearly destroyed Edoras! The Rohan are great warriors and we are not. Surely you see we must do what the King says!"

Frodo chimed in again. "AND," he paused for a moment, making the hobbits lean in to hear what Frodo had to say. "The Shire is a part of the kingdom of Gondor. We must bow to the King's wishes," he hesitated before finishing. "This threat is very real."

As Frodo and Pippin talked sense into their kindred, Aragorn tried to calm his mind and his turbulent thoughts. _How could they dismiss this so easily! This wizard destroyed many of the Elves of Middle-Earth...he kidnapped Arwen! They should not take this lightly!_ He knew he would have to regain control quickly and he squashed down his thoughts.

Finally, Gweluthand answered Legolas. _: If your devotion to these Hobbits is so great, Silvan Elf, then I will shield them in the coming battle. I only hope they come to show some respect for the favor I do for them before this fight is over. :_

Once he had appeased Gweluthand, Legolas opened his eyes and found that the Hobbits seemed to be quieting after Frodo and Pippin's words. He spoke again. "Gweluthand does not appreciate being underestimated. Elves have a deep connection to their surroundings. I'm a wood-elf and I enjoy talking to the trees and such. Gweluthand is a part of nature, she has feelings my friends."

The hobbits were silent, not sure what to make of air with feelings. Finally, it was the Gaffer who spoke. "Please, Mr. Legolas. Apologize for me to Gwelu...uhm...to the air shield. I want her on my side in this." His sentiments were echoed and Legolas did as they bade him.

_They are apologizing to you, Gweluthand, just as I said they would_, Legolas said quietly, many pairs of Hobbit eyes locked on him. Gweluthand expressed her acceptance of the apologies and Legolas smiled, looking up at the King and assembled group. "She accepts your apologies, be mindful in the future, before you insult things you do not understand."

Aragorn spoke now, hiding any signs that he had been bothered by the drunken outbursts and lack of attention. "We must prepare for the coming attack. Legolas can shield us from the spell with the aide of Gweluthand, but we must protect ourselves from the Orcs. Is there a place we can safely hide the women and children?"

Voices began to sound, and conversation went on for long minutes until they had worked out a place to hide the vulnerable. Now, Aragorn came to the heart of the question he had been debating with Legolas half-heartedly this morning.

"Can any of you fight?" he asked, deciding to put the question bluntly. At first, it looked like the Hobbits were going to shy away, ask to hide with the women and children. Then, the Gaffer spoke again.

"Well, I will not speak for all, but this is my home and I won't let the Orcs mess it up. I might not be a warrior like your men, but I am not scared. I will fight with you."

Sam looked on his father with bright eyes, a smile on his face, though it was a somewhat sad one. Aragorn placed a hand on the Gaffer's shoulder. "We welcome your help, Master Gamgee. If your son is any indication, you will fare just fine. Are there any others who will fight with us to protect the Shire, to protect your homes and your families?"

Quickly, all those present had vowed to fight. Rosie looked on from behind the counter, a sad smile on her face. Hobbits were brave little folk, it was true. But she worried for the Gaffer and her Sam, worried that the Hobbits might be valiant, but not ready for this battle.

Apparently Aragorn felt likewise. He was looking at Legolas and Gimli with sorrow. He whispered to the Elf and Dwarf. "They are brave, no doubt, but if they are to stand a chance, we must instruct them in the time we have left." Aloud, he outlined the plan. "We will send a contingent to gather the women and children and take them to the hiding place. Then all will train with us, we will give you lessons on sword fighting and some of you will work with Legolas and learn to shoot bows."

The plan set, Hobbits streamed out of the tavern with enthusiasm. They would not let the Shire be destroyed. Not while they still drew breath. Aragorn, Gimli and Legolas, joined by Sam, Frodo, Merry and Pippin watched them go.

"Do you think we will be able to train them enough, Aragorn?" Frodo asked, watching his kinfolk obeying Aragorn's commands. "I mean, after all, Hobbits are a peaceful bunch."

The King of Gondor looked down at his companions. "You four are Hobbits and some of the bravest warriors I've ever met. I have no doubt that bravery is not limited to you only." He looked back up at the Hobbits.

Gimli was a little less assured. "Bravery is one thing, skill in battle is another. You can be the bravest being, but fall in battle from lack of skill."

Legolas spoke quietly. "They will do fine. They will do what they must to protect their land. Either way, they have a better chance of winning this fight with our help and the help of Gweluthand. One arrow can fell the bravest or the best of warriors, Gimli. "

In silence, the Fellowship watched as preparations went on, knowing this was probably the last bit of peace they would have before the storm of battle.


	15. Thoughts and Theories

**_Reviewer responses for Chapter 14: _**

**Pirate Gyrl**: Yeh...poor Hobbits. We shall see their fate soon enough.

**Deana**: Thanks as always! We're getting to where I left off...thanks for sticking with me even though you know what happens a bit in advance.

**Mornflower**: That dwarf beard thing came out of the blue...glad you liked it. OK...I must admit...the Christmas song thing was quite cute. LoL.

**InsanePirate624**: He he...glad you liked it. Thanks for the luck with the job...read below for details.

**Zammy**: Updating....lol...

**Kelsey**: You learn more of Gweluthand a bit later...but you shall be surprised by just what you learn in this chapter of your second "question"...As for the next one...on Hobbit battles...hehe...that's coming too. Pippin said the Rohan were because unless I'm mistaken...Eowyn was QUITE a warrior, but she wasn't a Rohirrim. He was speaking of the people as a whole...

**Tonianne**: Hey...I missed you! Glad to see you reviewing again! Thanks for the birthday wish...glad you enjoyed the chappies. My...so many nice comments in one review...what am I to say!? THANKS!

**_A/N: Quickie...some of you asked about my job. Here's the low-down: it's a full-time reporter's position at a daily newspaper called the Register-Star...where I live it is pretty big. I will work 3-11 p.m. five days a week and earn $400 a week to start. After four months I will start receiving full benefits (life, health insurance and pension) AND I will get a raise. (Provided I work good!) It's about 10 miles from home and I will be covering the county government beat. That's about it! Thanks for the interest and THANKS for all the HAPPY BIRTHDAYS and ESPECIALLY for all the REVIEWS AND KIND COMMENTS. _**

_**Oh and if there is a delay before the next post...its cause my beta is in the path of Hurricane Charley and may lose power. Please pray for her and those in the path of that hurricane (which includes my parents...) and those in the path of Tropical Storm Bonnie... (if you are religious in that way!!!) THANKS...**_

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**Chapter 15: _Thoughts and Theories_**

_The Great East Road... _

"Lowgala, if you don't mind me asking...what the scariest thing you encountered in the mount.... I mean, in that place you came from?" Elladan hit himself in the head when he almost said 'mountains'. He didn't want to upset the creature again and every time someone said that word Lowgala went crazy and tried to hide under the cloak Elrond had given him.

It was the third day that Lowgala was with them and he had begun to quiet down a little. Only a little though.

Racking his brain, the creature thought about it for a while. "I've got it, Mr. Elf," he said. He had taken to affectionately calling the elves by Mr. or Ms. Elf and Gandalf, he had dubbed, the 'white guy'. "That would have to be towards the end of my time in that place. I was walking around, hoping to find someone, thinking that I didn't really feel like talking to myself that day, when I heard something." He paused, shuddering dramatically. "I don't know what language it was, but it was evil. Right. Very evil I think!"

He would have continued calling the language evil, scary and bad if Galadriel had not interjected suddenly, drawing her mount to a sudden, unexpected halt. "Do you remember any of the words? Any of them at all, Lowgala?"

The creature, recognizing that he had said something immensely important, took a deep breath, deeper then he needed to. "Well, I think so. _Gollem_...and _nerleth_...there were some other words with them, but I remember those two for some reason."

Galadriel's eyes widened and she looked to Gandalf, Erestor, Thranduil, and Elrond. "I recognize those words. After Graelath saved my life from Carcharoth, I made it a priority to learn as much about the Ethaim as possible. I learned some of their language. Much of this I learned from Cellnen, before he was killed. _Gollem_ means shadow and _nerleth_ is armies, in Etrain."

This revelation startled the twins, who both looked at each other. So Lowgala knew the whereabouts of Graelath. "Hey, Lowgala. Do you remember WHERE you heard this voice? What did the area look like; how far from the end of that place did he live?" Elrohir was trying to coax the important information from the creature.

Lowgala, who had taken a liking to the twin brothers, smiled. "Oh yes, I made a map in my head of all the land I walked. Yes, a map. Of all of it; every last thing. Photographic memory you know. Could point it out on a map with no problem, if I had a map that is. Could draw it too."

He stopped speaking when Elrond glared at him. He knew he was babbling, but he had waited so long to talk to others it was hard to resist. "Sorry, Mr. Elf. I won't ramble any more, just missed talking to folks, that's all. Been a long time you know. Being stuck in that land..."

Gandalf growled. "Lowgala! That is quite enough, we are trying to think."

The wizard's tone shut Lowgala up right away. He shrank back, hiding behind Elladan. The brothers glanced at their father, and then Elrohir took Lowgala's hand and led him away, followed closely by his brother. Erestor also dismounted, and followed the twins. "Why don't we fill you in on what is going on?" Elrohir said to the creature.

Lowgala nodded eagerly, plopping down on the ground and eating yet another lembas wafer. Elrohir sighed and sat beside him. "Well, Graelath, the man you heard, is an evil wizard who is trying to take over all of Middle-Earth..."

* * *

_Meanwhile... _

Helm's Deep.

Snuggly fit into the side of a mountain with the strong, high Deeping Wall and little or no vulnerabilities. The people of Rohan could camp out in the fortress for many months on the provisions they had gathered and brought in.

King Eomer sat in contemplation within the fortress, awaiting news on the Orc army headed for the haven. He had sent out riders earlier that week, perhaps the fact they were not back yet was good news; perhaps they had to ride far to catch a glimpse of the enemy.

"Eomer, please, you must eat. You have not eaten in many long hours; you are beginning to worry me." Eowyn strode into the room, a bowl in hand, filled with a steaming hot soup. "Please? For me, my brother?" She stood in front of him, holding out the bowl.

The king was about to dismiss the food, until he saw the genuine worry in his sister's eyes. She had been coping well with the situation, being separated from Faramir, who had returned to Gondor to rule in Aragorn's absence and prepare for an attack.

Eomer smiled lightly. "Thank you Eowyn. I am glad you are here to talk some sense into me. If you weren't, I fear I would not stir from this seat for much of anything. I worry, our riders have not yet returned."

To her credit, the woman managed a wan smile. "I too had thought they would be back by now. We can ill afford to lose men; even a few riders will make a difference. We do not have as grand an army as we had during the last battle."

She was quiet now as they both remembered the battle at Helm's Deep only a few short years ago. Eowyn frowned; she had been forced to retreat to the caves with the women and children. She would not do that again, she had proved herself in battle on the fields outside Minas Tirith, where she had nearly died.

"Yes, it is true we have less men and no Elves," Eomer said. "But have one advantage. There is no longer the drain to blow up. That is how they began to overwhelm us the last time. Our only problem now will be the shadow. Without the aide of Legolas, we may never know of an attack."

Eowyn had thought of that. She hated to admit it, but she had a feeling the air shield Legolas conjured would not work at great distances. It would not be able to come to the aide of the Rohan, nor, did she think, could it protect Gondor in the absence of the Elf. "Our fate lays in the hands of that Elf and his shroud. Let us hope that before long someone will discover the lair of Graelath and we will be rid of him."

Suddenly, the door was flung open and a breathless man hurried into the room, bowing before the King and Eowyn. "My Lord, I bring news of the Orc army!" He said, clutching his chest to catch his breath. "They are five days out, but moving fast. I do not doubt for a moment that they do not rest or slow often."

Eomer's eyes narrowed. "The news is not terrible. They are not to arrive tonight, which gives us a little more time. Do you remember what Aragorn mentioned in passing? About the shadow spell?" He had turned to Eowyn, who shook her head in confusion. "He said that the shadow seems to retreat when someone is bodily injured. In a last resort situation, we will do well to remember that."

The woman nodded, hoping it would not come to that.

* * *

_Gondor..._

"My Lord Faramir!"

Hearing his name, the man turned toward the speaker. A soldier, just arriving on horseback, hurried over to him. "I have just come from Minas Tirith; the spell does not seem to be in effect just yet, My Lord."

Nodding in relief, Faramir dismissed the man. He had almost expected bad news to come; it had been the trend of the last few days. When he had arrived in Gondor, he had found the armies spread thin. It had taken most of a day to gather them and set up camp just outside the city as Aragorn had commanded.

Then, he had found it immensely difficult to explain to the men why they were not barracked inside the walls of the city when an attack was definite.

"Surely, we should take advantage of the hard, strong walls of Minas Tirith or Osgiliath!" The men had argued.

"No!" called out Faramir, trying to get the men to understand. "By order of King Elessar, we are to make camp outside the city walls. The shadow that led to the downfall of the Elves has already nearly claimed Edoras. It seems that the spell is cast over the cities and shrouds the minds of the people. They do not see the threat coming!"

The men were listening now, though there was still doubt on their faces. "The King feels that if the spell is cast on Gondor, it will encompass only the main cities, Minas Tirith and possibly Osgiliath. If the soldiers of Gondor are not in the city walls, we will not be shrouded. We will stand a chance, which the Elves did not."

Murmurs permeated the silence that followed Faramir's speech. Leading a small troup of rangers was one thing. He was not accustomed to ruling the kingdom in time of battle. But he hoped that his words would be enough. To his relief, the men began to nod in understanding.

"We will not sit like lambs awaiting slaughter! We will outfox this wizard!" A man called out. "Gondor will not fall easily; we will beat them back from the city!" called another.

Faramir smiled and nodded, raising his hands in the air. "As long as the men of Gondor remain outside the spell, we will not let Graelath destroy our people. We will use the tragedy that befell the Elves to learn and not make the same mistake!"

Cheers broke out at the words and the men kept them going for long minutes while Faramir remembered the time in Osgiliath that his brother had given a rousing speech, the last time he had ever seen his brother alive. _Boromir would be proud of me this day_, he thought to himself. _If only he could see his little brother now; ruling in the stead of the King in a time of war_.

He dismissed the men now, sending out scouts to make sure no Orcs were too close for comfort. _I wonder how Eowyn, Eomer and the Rohan are fairing, and if King Elessar and the old Fellowship have reached the Shire. This battle is being fought on many fronts; let us hope that good prevails once more. _

Only one obstacle stood in the way of the good. _Where is Graelath?_

* * *

_Graelath's Fortress... _

The Rohan had encamped themselves in Helm's Deep. Gondor was without its King. The Shire was soon to be under siege and the Queen of Gondor was well on her way to being in his possession. "Things are going well, as I had hoped they would. It is only a matter of time before the world is at my fingertips."

He glanced over his maps, focusing on Minas Tirith and Osgiliath. "The strongest cities of Gondor. I can easily shadow them and Helm's Deep at the same time. But I'd best wait a bit until I am sure that the Shire is taken care of. Those Halflings might be daft and harmless, but the Ring was destroyed by their kind, I'd be wise not to underestimate them."

Graelath frowned. "AND, I am not entirely certain that Elessar has not arrived there yet. He might be able to fend off an attack if he is; which would be an unfortunate problem." A small smile crossed his face. "But even if the Shire doesn't fall now, it is of no consequence really. With his Queen here, he will surely come for her, leaving Gondor to my armies."

Glancing at the waning sun, he sighed and hurried up to the top of the tower, chanting the spell to shroud the Shire. His eyes narrowed when he felt a resistance. "What is this?" He muttered, thoughtfully. "Is it possible that the Elf has already reached the Shire and is shielding it?" He couldn't be entirely sure of this, but it seemed like his spell was not taking as well.

Anger flowed through him and he balled up his hands into fists. "You will not get the best of me!" Hurrying back into his tower, he sought his spell books in hopes of finding a way to incapacitate the Elf.

"I lucked out killing Cellnen, there must be a spell to stop the Elf from shielding people," he said to himself. "I will find it if it exists, I have come too far to let him stop me now."

He began to riffle through pages of large, leather-bound books.

* * *

_The Great East Road... _

"So, now we are on our way to the Shire," Elrohir finished the story as the night came to an end and they were forced to stop and rest. "Lady Galadriel is very wise; she knows that Estel and the rest of the Fellowship will go to the Shire."

Lowgala, to the surprise of them all, had been virtually silent during the long tale that Elladan, Elrohir, and Erestor took turns telling as they rode. When the story was done, he looked at Galadriel and said quietly. "The man I heard in...the...mountains...you think he was this Graelath?" The creature had completely transformed from his usual bubbly self.

Galadriel nodded lightly. "Yes, Lowgala, we believe he is. And welcome news this is because now we will be able to defeat Graelath. As it stood before we met you, we would only be able to hold off his armies. But Legolas can not be everywhere and one day Graelath would have triumphed."

Elrond, speaking to his sons in a whisper, suddenly turned back toward the group. "I fear something has happened, something unexpected. I do not wish to rest here tonight; instead I would much prefer to continue to the Shire."

The twins weren't sure what had caused their father to suddenly change his mind about the stop. They had merely been talking about Arwen, hoping she was all right, knowing that she had accompanied Aragorn to Eryn Lasgalen, when their father had his outburst.

Galadriel's eyes narrowed. She studied the dark-haired Elf lord and a sudden realization flooded her features. "Yes, it would be best to go if your feelings are correct. This could seriously complicate matters."

Elladan and Elrohir exchanged glances. "What could? What is going on, you two know something we do not."

Elrond turned to his sons. "Do not think on it. Get Lowgala back on Nirnen, the Shire is only a day or so away now, the sooner we get there, and the sooner I can rest at ease knowing that Aragorn and Arwen are safe."

Gandalf looked on from his perch on Shadowfax, exchanging a quick glance with Thranduil who was equally as baffled as the twins and him. Shadowfax snorted a little, anxious to be off again because he was not yet tired of journeying. "Hmm, what do they sense or see, I wonder," the elder wizard said under his breath.

Erestor heard the wizard's words and eyed Elrond suspiciously, but he did not question his lord. But he did not know what Galadriel and Elrond were thinking either. He shifted in his saddle, as his wounds, while healing rapidly; ached slightly. The worst of them was his broken arm, which would make it difficult for him to fight, as it was tightly wrapped and in a sling that Elrond had insisted he wear to take the strain off, and to immobilize it.

The twins also wondered about their father's words, knowing inwardly that it had to do with their sister. Elrond spoke in low tones with Galadriel. He hated to keep this secret from his sons, but he didn't want them to worry. They could ill afford being attacked when half their number were worrying, their minds elsewhere. They were a small enough group as it was.

To their credit, Elladan and Elrohir did not press the matter. Lowgala was strangely silent. Since Elrond had announced their proximity to the Shire, he had not said a word. The twins wondered if he feared rejection from the Hobbits.

"Lowgala," Elladan said, voicing their concerns. "What ails you? I have not seen you so quiet since we met you. Does something trouble you, my friend?"

Looking up at the dark-haired Elf, Lowgala sighed and nodded. "I fear these Hobbits will not accept me. I may be similar in size, as you say, but I'm not their kind. And I fear I have forgotten how to act in public."

The twins smiled. "You act just fine around us. Just try not to babble so much and you will be all right. We are arriving in the Shire at a rather tense time; I do not think anyone will shun you. If anything, they will probably welcome the good news we bring." Elrohir said, laughing.

Soon, the company was again moving toward the Shire. It was growing darker by the minute; soon they would only have the light of the stars to guide them. Luckily it was a clear, crisp night and the stars shone like gems in the black blanket of the sky.

Elrond rode in silence, trying not to feel too impatient. His heart and his bond with his daughter were telling him that something was very wrong, and though he wanted to press the pace, he wouldn't risk harming Thranduil or Erestor.

Galadriel rode up next to him, and for long moments didn't speak. Finally, she turned and gazed at him. _: You are worried, Elrond. I can feel it, and I think that you are right to be. Something is very wrong, and the feeling that I am getting seems to revolve around Arwen. :_

Elrond sighed, before replying in the same way, using Vilya to project his thoughts. _: What have you seen Galadriel? What has happened to Arwen? :_

Galadriel was silent again, her gaze distant. _: More than one life is now in danger. We must make haste, for a shadow has fallen over the Evenstar. :_


	16. The Deep Breath Before the Plunge

_**

* * *

Reviewer responses for Chapter 15: **_

**Pirate Gyrl**: I hope everything goes well for you and that you do not see the worst of that hurricane. Thanks for reviewing and thanks for all the compliments you've given. Also, thanks for the happy birthday and the job well-wishes!

**Mornflower**: falls to the floor in astonishment WOW, that IS the shortest review you've left. BUT no less appreciated! Thanks for leaving it!

**Amara**: Thanks for the happy b-day...you're another person with a picky computer huh? No worries, thanks for reading and reviewing. I'm glad it is unpredictable sometimes; I don't want people to be able to guess everything before I post it! I will pass on the wishes of good luck...thanks much!

**InsanePirate624:** You've still got time before you have to start worrying about jobs...is this a fast enough update for you?

_**A/N: The inspiration for this chapter's title comes from a line spoken my Gandalf in the Return of the King movie. It was too good an idea to pass up!**_

* * *

**Chapter 16: _The Deep Breath Before the Plunge_**

_Hobbiton..._

Legolas thought fighting while hopelessly outnumbered was difficult, but this was much harder and more frustrating. That is, teaching drunken Hobbits to shoot arrows. Not only did they not listen well, constantly joking and poking each other with the arrows, but they couldn't seem to keep the arrows notched even when they were trying.

The Elf grabbed an arrow from one Hobbit who had been about to stick another with it. "The arrow goes on the bow," he chided, handing it back slowly. "It is not to be used to poke your neighbor." The hobbit nodded, slowly notching the arrow and pulling back on the string. But, he had not held the arrow when he pulled the string and it flopped to the ground.

Legolas rolled his eyes. _This is hopeless. Perhaps if they were not still drunk I would have a better chance of teaching them something of the art of archery. But we do not have the luxury of waiting for them to sober up._

Pippin and those of his family seemed to be the only Hobbits able to hit the broadside of anything with an arrow. The Hobbit was desperately trying to help Legolas with his task of training some of the Hobbits in archery. But even he was having little luck.

Suddenly, Rosie appeared, carrying a large bucket of something hot. "All of you drunken Hobbits get over here!" She called to the would-be archers. Legolas watched in confusion. "Drink up! There is enough for everyone."

Not caring what they were drinking, the Hobbits gathered round Rosie. "Yum! What'd you give us?" one asked.

Rosie wouldn't answer. "Just a treat for your hard work." She winked at Legolas who nodded thoughtfully. When the crowd had left her side, she came to Legolas and Pippin, who had joined the Elf. "The King told me to give it to them. I don't know what it is."

But it suddenly dawned on Legolas. "I do. Why didn't I think of it before?" He laughed, assuring Rosie it was nothing harmful. Aragorn had likely given them something to sober them up. It would drown out the effects of the ale and make them more alert.

It had begun to take effect it seemed. Legolas heard a zing and saw an arrow careening through the air. He jumped lightly, avoiding the projectile and looking toward the Hobbits. One was covering his mouth in shock.

"Oh! Didn't think it would go anywhere, I did!" the Hobbit called, apologizing profusely to the Elf who simply laughed and patted him on the shoulder.

"Fear not, at least you got the arrow to go somewhere, which is more then I can say for the rest of you. Now, if you please, pay attention this time! We haven't got all day to learn this and trust me, you'll want to know how when the Orcs arrive."

The mention of Orcs helped to sober the Hobbits further and they watched the Elf intently. "Now, once you have the arrow on the string, you can't just let it go...you have to hold on to it and pull the string back at the same time." As he spoke, he demonstrated what he meant.

"Then, you aim the arrow, like this...and when you have it lined up, you let the string go." He aimed for the targets they had set up and let his arrow loose. It hit the target with a resounding thud.

To his surprise, the Hobbits suddenly ran toward the target yelling excitedly. "He hit it right in the middle! Well look at that!"

Legolas laughed. He called to the Hobbits, trying to get them to calm down and continue to practice, but they didn't appear to hear him. Sighing, he suddenly came up with a solution. Whipping an arrow from his quiver, he notched it and fired, the arrow sailing through the throng of Hobbits and splitting his first arrow.

All eyes turned on him and there was dead silence. "If you please, we have a great deal of work to do." He smiled as they all hurried back and studiously took up their bows.

Pippin laughed suddenly, turning to the Elf. "You sure have an interesting way of getting their attention!"

* * *

Aragorn and the others weren't faring too much better, even with the tea. The Hobbits seemed to be goofing off more then anything else, which began to seriously irritate Aragorn. He couldn't help his feelings, he was worried sick for Arwen and it annoyed him that he was here trying to protect Hobbits who seemed to care little about the coming danger.

"They don't mean to be disrespectful, you know." Merry stood at Aragorn's elbow, looking out over the Hobbits dueling with broom handles and tree branches as practice swords. "Hobbits just aren't used to anything dangerous really. We live peaceful, rather fun-filled lives." He looked up at Aragorn. "I'm sure Frodo and I can talk some sense into them...they are beginning to sober up."

He walked away now, shouting to a pair of Hobbits, "No, no! Don't do that!"

Aragorn frowned as he watched one particular Hobbit get hit for the umpteenth time. "You there, if you are going to defend yourself against anything, you must keep your eyes open, my friend." He smiled, taking the place of the Hobbit's partner. "Here, I will attack nice and slowly, you keep those eyes open and stop me."

He slowly swung in a long arc, giving the Hobbit plenty of time to see the attack. This time, he kept his eyes open and successfully blocked it. "Very good!" Aragorn smiled. He swung a few more times, and then set the two Hobbits together again.

Sighing, he returned to his perch on a nearby ledge to watch the proceedings. He tried hard to keep his mind on the moment, but kept on going back to the night of the attack when Arwen had been taken. _Why didn't I see it? Why didn't I see them take her, was I so blind that I didn't see her plight? _He couldn't understand why he had not seen his wife being taken. _I don't remember seeing any orcs break off from the fight!_ He grimaced, seeing yet another pair of hobbits fooling around.

He was about to go to them when he saw Frodo beat him to it. "You have to stop messing around. King Elessar is trying to help us, show him a little respect and do what he taught you." The Hobbits nodded, sobering a bit and putting more effort into the practice.

Frodo glanced in Aragorn's direction and the man nodded his thanks. _Frodo knows that my mind is elsewhere. He is a good friend, he will do all he can to ease the trouble of this training for me. I wonder how Gimli is fairing, getting the women and children to hiding places?_

* * *

_Please, let them tire of this constant banter and tugging! _Gimli sighed in slight frustration as another Hobbit child tugged on his arm and looked up at him with imploring eyes. "Please, tell us about the dwarf women again!" The boy begged; his eyes full of mischief.

Gimli had already gone over this many times, but it always made the children laugh and he wanted to keep them focused as he watched the women and children of the Shire file into the underground hiding place.

"All right," he said, giving in as usual and taking on an odd accent. "There aren't many dwarf women you know," he said, suddenly looking around to see if anyone was listening to them, pretending he was telling the children a secret. "And they are so alike in voice and appearance, that they are often mistaken for dwarf men."

The children burst out laughing, giggling as they echoed the part of dwarf women being taken for dwarf men. Gimli glanced toward the door to the cavern; inwardly hoping one of his companions would come to his rescue.

Suddenly, he smiled. Sam hurried through the doorway, his eyes roving over the assembled Hobbits, wishing this once that Gimli were not a dwarf so he would stand much taller above the Hobbits. "Mr. Gimli? Where are you at?" He called, his eyes finally coming to rest on the dwarf in the midst of the children.

A small smile crossed Sam's face and he made his way to the dwarf. "Little ones, I'm going to have to steal Gimli for a while, we need him outside." Sam said, not letting himself be phased by the whining children.

Gimli stood up and looked at them. "Come now, no need for sadness kids. I'll be back soon." _Unless of course there is a way I can avoid that! _He thought to himself. It wasn't that he didn't like children, but these Hobbit children were extremely excitable!

As he followed Sam from the cavern, he thought about the Glittering Caves at Helm's Deep. He had begun to bring dwarves there in hopes of making it a homely realm. He hoped they would cooperate with the Rohan when they arrived at the fortress.

This cavern, though it was not glittering or nearly as large as the caves at Helm's Deep, did remind him of it. Most of the Hobbits had been unaware of the gaping cave under the hills on the West end of the Shire.

One of the old Hobbits from Pippin's family had remembered it from his childhood and he had suggested that the women and children would easily fit inside. It was large and amazingly well ventilated. There were two entrances, one from the Shire and one that lay outside the Shire. It would provide an escape route in the event that Orcs discovered the cave.

"Sam, where are we going?" he finally asked.

The Hobbit sighed. "Mr. Strider has called a meeting. He wants to make plans for the attack."

Gimli nodded in understanding. He had expected as much. Aragorn might not be entirely himself and that was to be expected, what with the kidnapping of the woman he loved. But Gimli knew he would not abandon the Hobbits, he would lead the defense and Gimli had faith they would prevail.

Once they exited the caves, his eyes darkened. He noticed immediately the waning mist. _Has Legolas asked the shield to stop shrouding us for a time? _He wondered to himself. _Why is the mist lighter and less blue then before?_

He made a mental note to ask about this development later. Seeing Aragorn, Frodo, Merry, Pippin and Legolas, along with the heads of the families, he pushed the thought from his head for the moment.

Glancing at his friend, he could see that Legolas appeared fatigued. The Elf rarely seemed to tire since his wounds had mostly healed. He guessed that keeping Gweluthand with them for so long had begun to take its toll.

"The soldiers of Gondor and the Rohirrim will be our outer defense. The Fellowship and the Hobbits will remain close to the cave to protect it from any Orcs or Uruks that get through. I have no doubt there will be plenty who achieve this. The army is numerous, Legolas has been out of the Shire, scouting."

He relinquished the floor to the Elf. "The orc army is large, far greater then we first expected. But all hope is not lost, for they are expecting us to be unaware of them." He looked at Aragorn before continuing. "It appears to be a host of about 1,000 or more."

There were gasps all around. An old Hobbit frowned. "There are too many, we'll never win!"

Aragorn raised his hand. "I have told you we are here to protect the Shire and you Hobbits have learned much in this short time. We will prevail." He did not offer any comforting words besides those. He did not have the will to do it.

Legolas suddenly spoke, his elvish words were frantic. When he was finished, Aragorn looked at him with unease. "What has happened, _mellon nin_?" He asked, knowing what the Elf had said, hoping it was not true.

"Gweluthand warned me, she can not keep us shielded indefinitely. I had thought the attack would have come before she needed to regenerate. I can not keep her here any longer!" His words were low, guilt on his face.

Everyone's eyes snapped to the tavern window. It was true. The light blue mist was fading before their eyes, leaving the air clear and unshielded. And it wasn't long before the shadow began creeping in again.

Gimli put a hand on the Elf's shoulder. "We will be all right, it is not your fault my friend." But Gimli's voice betrayed his growing anxiety.

Legolas shook his head. "Already, the shadow is reaffirming its hold on the people; I can see it in all your eyes!" He looked pointedly at Aragorn. "I must do something, there must be a way!" He stood and left the table, seeking solitude to think. He hoped that Aragorn would not take offense.

The king of Gondor let out a deep breath. "Well, this is an unexpected problem. But we will go on as planned, everyone take up their appointed position and do well to remember what we are preparing for."

He wanted to seek out the Elf prince when the Hobbits had left to gather their people at the predetermined spots, but he knew that Legolas had to figure this out on his own. Nothing that Aragorn knew would help him.

Starring out the window at the mist-less air, he sighed. _Valar, please help him figure this out. Or we all are doomed._


	17. The Hammerstroke Falls

**_Reviewer responses for Chapter 16: _**

**Pirate Gyrl: **Glad you were missed by the storm...so were my family and friends for the most part. Glad you liked the chapter and yes you are right the Hobbits were having difficulty behaving!!

**Mornflower: **ROTFLMAO...I love that little dialogue your review had in it! VERY cute. As for the air shield...just wait and see what they do about it.

**Deana: **Thanks for the continuing reviews...here you are...

**InsanePirate624: **The quickest update on eh? Well, I dunno but I guess I can be fast sometimes. Glad you enjoy my battle scenes...they are the best things to write too.

**Kelsey: **Hope you made out well with on starting high school. You are sure in for a ride for the next...what...four years!? Enjoy that and I hope no one DOES manage to stuff you in a locker. Anyway, glad you liked the chapter...sorry if sometimes characters come off as a bit modern in their speech...guess that's me coming through! (THIS IS IN REGARDS TO THE CHAPTER 15 ONE)

**Gozilla: **Glad you liked...thanks for reading.

**Chantal1409: **Glad you liked that teaching the Hobbits bit. It was So fun to write that!!!

**Dragonfire1214: **Thanks for reviewing again! Glad you like this story. I promise you will get some Legolas injury in this chapter!!! I am glad you liked the bit with Gimli and the kids too...that was just a perfect thing with his height!

**Kelsey AGAIN: **This is for chapter 16 review...Sorry bout the cliffie! (Not REALLY...I do that on purpose SOMETIMES...) You shall see what happens with the air shield in this chapter...enjoy.

**Zammy and Karone Evertree: **Thanks for reviewing and here is your updates...enjoy them!

* * *

**Chapter 17:_ The Hammer-stroke Falls_**

_Why didn't I wait a little before calling on Gweluthand? She warned me of this and I did not take heed, now we are about to be attacked and the Hobbits and the others are beginning to feel the shadow once more. Even I am becoming affected._

Legolas was seated in a tall tree, looking out at the advancing Orc army. It had been within his sight for a while now; he knew that Aragorn, if he was looking that way, would now be able to discern it easily. It was only a matter of maybe an hour before they were under attack.

_Please, speak to me, Gweluthand! I need guidance, what do I do without you? _He pleaded that he would be heard. For long moments, there was no reply. Then, faintly he heard something.

_: I am not able to come back until regenerated. But Cellnen knew one way to speed up my regeneration; he would lend me his strength. : _There was a pause as if Gweluthand was gathering strength to continue. _: It will mean you will be vulnerable in the fight. :_

Legolas didn't care. He had to save his friends and the Hobbits. "Please, tell me." He whispered aloud. "I will do anything."

_: All right, I will explain to you what must be done. Listen carefully, for I only have the strength to tell it once. : _That said Gweluthand began to tell the Elf what he would have to do and how he would do it. His face fell at what she said.

* * *

"Where is Legolas? Have you seen him!?" Aragorn called to Gimli over the growing din of the Orc army on the doorstep of the Shire. "The shadow is beginning to overtake the Hobbits!" He watched with unease as some of the nearest Hobbits began to chatter about visiting the Green Dragon.

Gimli shrugged, not having a clue where the Elf was, a sense of foreboding growing inside him. Then, out of nowhere, Legolas materialized. He looked unaffected by the shadow, his eyes as clear as ever. Taking his spot between Gimli and Aragorn, he spoke quickly.

"I know what I must do, though I loathe doing it. You both may need to cover me, for I will not be able to fight as I usually do," the Elf glanced at his friends, not wanting to elaborate. "Do not ask why; only promise me you will at least try."

Both nodded and Legolas took a deep breath. He began to speak in Elvish, so quietly and quickly that even Aragorn could not follow his words. The man noticed then, to his dismay that Legolas' natural radiance seemed to diminish.

He no longer seemed to have that Elven glow to his skin and his shoulders slumped a little. He stopped speaking and looked at Aragorn. The man gasped. The Elf's eyes were almost lifeless, dark and glazed, more akin to human eyes then Elf ones.

"What have you done?" Aragorn asked as he felt the shadow disappear and saw Gweluthand suddenly reemerge, strong as before.

Legolas looked at him sadly. "I have given Gweluthand strength by forsaking my Elven abilities. I can no longer see nor hear things at great distances, nor do I have my usual light-footedness. I am essentially a man, no offense Aragorn. By using what I gave her, Gweluthand can shield us for a few more hours."

Aragorn looked at his long time friend with a new respect. "You are indeed a good friend, _mellon nin_, to give up these things on the eve of battle when you have never fought without their aid. Gimli and I will try to watch your back. May the Valar be with us all."

He turned toward the Hobbits, glad to see them shaking off the shadow and holding their weapons at the ready. Soon, the first of the battle was heard when the Orcs met with the first line of defense, the Rohirrim and Gondorians.

Gimli was still looking at his friend in shock. _I hope this is not permanent, I can not imagine Legolas without his Elven abilities. _He hoped that his friend would be able to fight without them.

The first of the Orcs came charging up the road, shrieking and growling. Aragorn and Legolas, along with the line of Hobbit archers, notched their arrows and prepared to fire. When the Orcs were close enough, Aragorn gave the order and arrows flew through the air.

Gimli chuckled, watching Legolas' arrow hit an Orc square between the eyes. "At least you haven't lost your skill with a bow!" The dwarf laughed, shifting his weight as he watched more Orcs flow toward them.

When they were too close for arrows, swords, axes and daggers were unsheathed and metal clanged. Merry and Pippin charged into the fray with shrieks of "the Shire!" Frodo and Sam were on their heels.

Aragorn saw Sam's father, the Gaffer, plunge his sword into an Orc and pull it free, surprised that he had succeeded in killing his enemy. He quickly recovered and sidestepped another Orc, surprise on his face.

Legolas was still fast and agile with his daggers, relying on over two millennia of training and experience, spinning on his heel and plunging one of the blades into an Orc's soft neck. But he lacked his usual gracefulness and ease of movement, finding his movements hindered.

He just managed to avoid a nasty cut to the back, turning and killing the Uruk just in time. Gimli, seeing this falter, frowned. _Maybe he is not himself, though the bow shots did have me fooled. _He swung his axe into an approaching Orc and grunted as he pulled it back out. Aragorn was trying to keep an eye on his friend and the Hobbits as well.

_They are fighting well, the shadow is at bay, and we may yet still win this! _He thought to himself. Swinging his sword in a fast arc, he sliced an Uruk's head from its body, spinning on his heel and stabbing blindly behind him to take out another.

Gimli was so preoccupied watching over Legolas that he missed the blade of an Orc careening toward his legs. He suddenly felt the biting pain of the blow and cried out. Legolas spun toward his friend and his eyes widened.

His eyes then darkened and he flung a dagger at the Orc, hitting it in the throat. Hurrying to Gimli, he caught him as he fell. "Gimli!" The Elf cried in anguish. "Please, Gimli!"

The Dwarf pushed him off. "I am fine. Just a little cut! Don't worry about me too much, you are not your usual self and I have seen you faltering already." He struggled to his feet, putting some weight on his leg and grimacing. "Fight at my side if you must."

Legolas nodded and pulled an arrow from his quiver quickly, though not with his usual lightning speed. Thrusting it forward, he plunged it into the eye of an Orc, then notched it and sent it careening into an Uruk that had been advancing on the gaffer.

The Hobbit looked toward his benefactor and smiled, waving lightly. The moment's distraction was his undoing. Legolas cried out a warning, but it was not in time. An Uruk blade sliced into the Hobbit's shoulder, plunging deep.

A pained scream was torn from the gaffer's throat as he was forced down onto his knees by the blow. The Uruk pulled free his blade and prepared to finish the attack when an arrow hit him in the forehead.

But it was not an arrow from the bow of Legolas or Aragorn. Pippin stood, his eyes ablaze, with the bow still pointed in the direction of the Gaffer. Tears were in his eyes and he cried out a strangled battle scream as he lunged at the nearest Orc with his short sword.

Legolas searched for Sam, surprised that he had not heard his father's scream. He was fighting beside Frodo to the Elf's left. It was only a matter of time before he saw what happened. They had been fighting for nearly half an hour now; the Hobbits were brave but beginning to tire.

The Elf knew that Gweluthand could only shield them for an hour, two at the very best, with the strength he had given her. He cast the worry aside, blocking the blows of another Orc, his arms strangely tired.

_It must be the lack of my elvish abilities! Now I know what it feels to fight long battles as a man would. I feel fatigue in my muscles and pain in minor cuts. How does Aragorn survive like this every time we fight? _He spun on his heel, landing a punch to an Orc's face just as it was about to attack Gimli.

The dwarf was losing his battle to stay conscious. Legolas would not let him fall while he himself still stood. He glanced toward his friends, seeing the Hobbits faring well and Aragorn fighting with an energy born of sheer desperation.

_We will not last much longer! If only I could call on magic now! _He longed for his Elvish abilities. If there was ever a time he could use a little magic, now was it. Suddenly, to his great relief, he was assaulted with sound.

The Elf faltered in his step, drawing the attention of Aragorn and his other companions. He shivered, though not because he was chilled, his glow returning as his abilities came back to him. _Thank the Valar it wasn't permanent! _Aragorn breathed a sigh of relief.

Until he saw the threat that Legolas did not. Calling out, he ran toward the Elf, but knew he wouldn't reach him in time. An Orc blade, aimed for the Elf's exposed back, flashed in the waning sunlight.

Still reeling from the shock of his returning senses, Legolas did not see it. He suddenly felt a blinding pain and screeched, becoming fully aware. He surged forward, pulling himself from the blade, fully intending to kill his injurer as he spun on his heel.

There was no need. A dagger flew within inches of the Elf's face and struck the Orc in the throat. Legolas' eyes turned his benefactor and widened in shock. There stood his father, leaning forward clutching his chest. Behind him were Lord Elrond and his sons, Elladan and Elrohir, his advisor Erestor, Gandalf, Galadriel and an odd looking creature.

A swath of dead surrounded the newcomers, though they were quickly engaged in battle as well, with Elladan and Elrohir rallying around Thranduil as the King tried to regain control of his pain. Legolas, his senses and strength returned to him, knew now was the time to end this, he could feel his wound bleeding, saw Gimli and the gaffer unconscious and his father reeling.

Though a powerful group had arrived, the Hobbits were faltering. It had to end. Legolas squared his shoulders and spoke forcefully, his voice commanding attention. The Orcs and all those around continued to fight, but half-heartedly.

* * *

_Meanwhile..._

The small group that had set out from Rivendell had reached the Shire late in the morning, and was now riding as fast as they dared with their injured companions. Elladan had spotted the trail made by the orcs, and the Elves were paralleling the course, riding over the hills to avoid coming up directly on the flanks of the Orcs.

The din of combat reached the ears of the Elves and the whole group quickened their pace more. Thranduil and Erestor, adrenaline rushing, barely felt their wounds, but Elrond was conscious of them and tried to hold them back.

"Stay behind the twins and I you two, we do not want you injured any more." Elrond directed his gaze mostly to Thranduil. The King was a warrior by nature, whereas Erestor was not. The Elf Lord worried that the Elven-king would take drastic measures if he saw his son in danger.

Thranduil glared at the Elf but did not answer. Nor did he shake his head in agreement. Elrond was about to push the matter when they crested the hill and slowed to a surprised halt.

Hobbits, Gondorians, Rohirrim and the old members of the Fellowship were all fighting together; a mixture of weapons and skill levels mingling against the Uruks and Orcs of Graelath.

And it looked like the small alliance was faltering under the attack of the Orcs.

Without further ado, the newcomers hurried to their aide. Gandalf, the twins and Elrond took point, laying into the enemy with a vigor that hid their worry and their fatigue. As of yet, they had not seen Arwen.

_It doesn't mean she isn't here...it doesn't mean anything happened to her..._ Elladan thought as he ran an Orc through with his sword. He glanced momentarily at Thranduil who was actually hanging back as Elrond had ordered.

Satisfied that the King was safe enough for the moment he turned his attention back on the battle.

Thranduil, being in the back as he was, and partially protected by his companions, was able to observe the combatants. He saw Aragorn fighting like a mad-man; Hobbits swinging swords and some, to his surprise, shooting arrows almost effectively; and of course the soldiers of Rohan and Gondor.

Then his eyes lit upon a scene that would plague his dreams for the rest of his immortal life. Legolas, standing protectively over a Dwarf, stumbled as his Elven glow seemed to strengthen.

Stumbled and missed the Orc behind him.

Thranduil knew that shouting a warning would do nothing and before he even realized what he was doing, he pushed past Elladan, Elrohir, Gandalf _and_ Elrond, ripping a dagger from the other lord's belt as he moved.

Taken by surprise by the King's actions, Elrond wasn't fast enough to stop Thranduil from seizing his dagger, even though he had more than half expected the King to join the fray.

In the clear, Thranduil ignored everything around him, taking a split second to aim, and then flinging the dagger with all his remaining strength, even as he felt an explosion of pain, though he didn't take his eyes off the knife. He clutched his chest in pain, watching the Orc stab his son in the back, seeing Legolas pull forward and away, intent on turning to kill the Orc, then seeing his own blade hit the Orc in the throat.

Legolas turned quickly, surprise on his face. The surprise grew and the Elf's eyes widened when they locked on the King's form. Thranduil smiled lightly, pleased and relieved that his son was saved.

He wheezed in pain as his companions recovered and moved to protect him while he caught his breath and stilled his trembles. Then he looked up to see resolve appear in Legolas' eyes as the younger Elf began to speak.

Galadriel, Elrond and Gandalf watched in silence. They knew the power of Elvish magic, though they had not seen it wielded in this manner in a long time. _He reminds me so much of Cellnen, _Galadriel thought as the Elf prince began to glow a little brighter.

No one was quite sure what he was going to do. Aragorn had seen the magic at work, but it didn't seem to always take the same form. To his great surprise, he saw the Orcs and Uruks around him clutching at their throats, their beady eyes wide in fear.

Thranduil, who had somewhat recovered from the strain of throwing the dagger, looked at his son with interest. _I didn't know Legolas spoke Quenya! _The king thought to himself. He too had seen the magic in action before and was amazed at how it differed each time.

Legolas continued to speak, his eyes locked on the Uruk in front of him, who looked to be a leader of sorts. As he spoke, the enemy began to fall, slowly at first, then in droves. Soon, there were few left standing, but Legolas had no strength left to continue so he left it to his companions to finish these off as he slid to the ground in exhaustion, clutching blindly for his wound.

Aragorn hurried over to him, the newly arrived Elves on his heels. "Legolas?" He called, coming to a stop and kneeling by his friend. "Once again you save us when we are in dire need, and at the expense of your own health."

Legolas smiled wanly. "Yes, so it would seem. What ever would you do without me?" He was being sarcastic, that was a good sign. His eyes clouded and his gaze fell on Gimli. "He is hurt worse; I will be all right until he is tended to." He grimaced as his father fell to his side and began to fuss over him.

A strangled cry broke the silence. All eyes turned toward Sam, who was kneeling beside his father, cradling the bloody Hobbit in his arms. "No! You can't be dead, you can't be!" He was muttering, tears falling down his cheeks. Legolas looked pointedly at Lord Elrond.

"Please." He whispered, gently pulling the Elf's hand from his back.

Elrond nodded and stood, hurrying over to the fallen Hobbit. Galadriel, heeding Legolas' plea, went to Gimli, leaving Aragorn and Thranduil to tend to Legolas. Though Thranduil was really just getting in the way of Aragorn's tending.

The two friends glanced at each other, sorrow in their eyes. Sam was a dear friend and they hated to see him in such despair. Frodo appeared at the blonde Hobbit's side. "Sam, you must let him down so Lord Elrond can help him!" He pleaded, pulling Sam back, looking to Merry and Pippin with begging eyes.

They didn't hesitate to grab hold of their friend and help Frodo drag him back a few steps, giving Elrond room to work. Frodo pulled Sam's tear-streaked face toward his own. "He saved my life after I was stabbed with a Morgul blade," the dark-haired Hobbit said. "He is powerful; he will do all that can be done for your father."

Sam buried his face in Frodo's shoulder and wept as Lord Elrond struggled to save the Gaffer, his voice speaking urgent Elvish words as all present, save Aragorn and Galadriel, watched. A gentle wind picked up, bringing a clean, wholesome smell to the battlefield. Legolas observed the glowing of Vilya as Elrond called on the power of his Ring. He knew that the elf lord bore the Ring, so this was no shock to him. Everyone else was watching the face of the Gaffer, and seemed not to notice the sapphire glowing with its warm golden light.

For a time, there was no change in the Gaffer, he lay deathly still. Then, he began to draw deeper breaths and his body relaxed onto the ground. Elrond stopped speaking, turning to Merry and Pippin. "Do you know anything about herbs? Could you fetch some for me?"

To his surprise, Sam wiped tears from his face, squared his shoulders and stepped forward. "I am a gardener Mr. Elrond. I know more about plants than most, what do you need?"

Elrond gave Sam a small, reassuring smile, laying a hand on his shoulder. "I will tell you what I need. Do not worry, I feel we arrived soon enough and I will be able to revive him before long."

Sam nodded, a little reassured, but not entirely.

Legolas watched the scene unfold, but as soon as he heard a low groan from his right, he immediately turned toward it. Gimli was waking up and he was wrinkling his nose in pain. Then, the dwarf's eyes widened and he stuttered.

"Milady!? How...why...when...," he stopped, not able to form words. Legolas and Aragorn smiled and the Elf queen answered with a laugh.

"We arrived after you had already lost consciousness, dear Gimli. A long time it has been since we last parted, a hard parting it was for you. But rest easy, I am tending your wound and the battle is over."

Gimli, seeing Legolas sitting beside him with Aragorn tending a wound, frowned. "You got yourself hurt again...seems like you can't keep out of trouble when I'm not around."

The Elf prince shot his friend an evil look promising a talk later. Right now, he was exhausted beyond words and did not feel like answering. Aragorn sighed and moved in front of him. "Your wound is dressed; take care not to disturb it. And I am ordering you, _mellon nin_, to get some rest, you have drained yourself quite a bit."

Gimli's head snapped up at this last statement. "Drained? You aren't non-Elf anymore!? Thank the heavens; I thought I'd have to deal with you without those abilities of yours! That would be a challenge, you would whine to no end if faced with mortal problems!"

Thranduil narrowed his eyes at his son. "Non-Elf? Mortal problems? What does that mean?"

Gimli's eyes narrowed as well, and he continued speaking, overriding Thranduil's words. "Drained though? You used your magic?!"

Legolas groaned, knowing that he was about to get grilled, and frankly he didn't much feel like that at the moment, so he bowed his head and smiled. "Yes, Gimli, on both accounts. I have my abilities back and I did use magic. But I am all right, you are all right and our friends are all right. We have lost relatively few, which comes as a welcome surprise, though any loss of life is a grievance."

Thranduil wasn't so easily satisfied however, and shot a glare at the dwarf for interrupting him. "I want an answer Legolas. What does he mean?"

Galadriel interrupted. "There will be time enough for that later, Thranduil. Both of them need rest, and you need to be checked over as well, after being so foolish to get into the battle while injured, especially after being warned by Elrond about that." Thranduil glared at her as well, but couldn't meet her cool gaze for long, and finally glanced away.

The dwarf sighed, cringing as a wave of pain danced through his leg. "Well, I think I'll heed Aragorn's advice as well and get some rest. That is, if you are finished, milady?" He turned his eyes on Galadriel.

"Yes, Gimli, I am finished, I will help Lord Elrond tend to the Hobbits," her eyes turned on Legolas. "Long has it been since I saw the use of magic of that nature. There is no doubt in my mind there is a connection between you and Cellnen, though I do not know what exactly that connection is, blood or otherwise. But you remind me so much of him."

She raised a hand, quieting Legolas' question before he asked it. "There will be time to discuss such things later, though precious little it will be. Right now, you and Gimli must come inside and rest."

Aragorn helped Gimli up and kept a watchful eye on Legolas as they entered the Green Dragon, which had become a makeshift healing ward. Injured Hobbits and men lay all around, but most were not grievously wounded, to their relief.

The Gaffer was resting peacefully in a corner, Sam at his side, closely monitoring his father. Frodo, Merry and Pippin were with him, smiling in relief when they saw Legolas and Gimli moving mostly on their own.

"We were lucky," Aragorn commented. "Casualties could have been far worse." His eyes fell on a small creature hovering near Elladan and Elrohir. _I wonder who that is. He must have an important part to play if he is here and came with such company._

Gandalf came over to where the three were sitting. As if he had read their mind, he looked over at the creature and spoke quietly. "That is Lowgala, a near relative to a Hobbit." He looked closely at his friends. "He has been lost in the Misty Mountains for a long time. Gwaihir brought him to us after we left Rivendell."

Aragorn's eyes widened and he was about to speak, but he was cut off by a voice at his left. "Where is Arwen?"

Lord Elrond and the twins were standing there, looking expectantly at Aragorn. The king's eyes fell and his shoulders shuddered. Legolas took pity on the man and looked into the eyes of the Elf Lord. "She was taken, kidnapped by the Uruks of Graelath on our journey to the Shire. We could not pursue them; the risk to the Hobbits was too great."

Elrond's eyes fell and Galadriel looked down, but the twins paled. Great was their sorrow at this news, but greater then Aragorn, Legolas and the rest of the Fellowship knew.

Lord Elrond spoke haltingly, looking at Aragorn. "Estel, come with me, I must tell you something. I am not sure even if Arwen knew it, but you must know, for I can no longer keep it secret."

Aragorn's face paled and he nodded, following the elf lord as Elrond crossed to the far side of the room, out of ear-shot of everyone. They bent their heads together, and Elrond said something to his foster son. Aragorn's head shot up, and he looked completely distraught. He stared at Elrond in shock for a long moment, then turned and fled the pub. Elrond looked sadly after him, then came and rejoined the others.

Legolas moved to get up, but Galadriel put a hand on his shoulder. The prince turned to Elrond. "What did you tell him? Never have I seen him act like that."

Elrond gazed steadily at the prince, his eyes full of sorrow and deep wisdom. He glanced at his sons as well, then spoke, his voice wavering. "Arwen is with child."

All eyes snapped up or widened, focusing on the Elf Lord in shock. Elladan was the first one to think of something to say. "But she is being held captive! Does Graelath know? Is that why he had her kidnapped?"

Elrond shook his head. "I do not see how he could know. Lady Galadriel and I only knew of it because of the blood connection that we share with Arwen, and the power granted to us by our Rings. But it will not be long before he finds out, I am sure."

Legolas attempted to rise again, only to be stopped again by Galadriel. "No, Legolas. He needs to be alone. This is a most unfortunate turn of events. This news will surely affect Aragorn's judgment in all things he does from now on. He will be weakened, just as Graelath hoped."

Elrond, keeping his emotions surprisingly in check, spoke quietly. "But there is one thing he does not yet know."

"We know where he dwells." Elladan's eyes were dark and his hands clenched as he spoke. _He has my sister; if he harms a hair on her head..._

His brother put a hand on his shoulder. His eyes echoed his brother, but he was a hair calmer. "And we will get her back and destroy him before Graelath is able to destroy Rohan or Gondor."

With grim faces, they all tried to get a little rest. The next leg of their quest would be a race against time.

* * *

Legolas was exhausted, but worry for Aragorn kept him from sleep. Still, he did not feel he had the strength to hold a conversation so he simply lay on a make-shift cot and watched his father.

Thranduil had overdone it when he had thrown that dagger to save Legolas and Gimli. Elrond had examined him after taking care of the Gaffer and he found that the King had torn a few stitches, which the Elf quickly fixed before ordering the King to a bed.

Now, Thranduil was half-laying, half-sitting in a bed beside Gimli of all people. The Elven-king eyed his neighbor quietly, knowing of the deep bond of friendship between Legolas and the dwarf.

_Why did it have to be a dwarf? _The King thought, shaking his head.

Gimli, unfortunately, caught the movement and grumbled. Legolas was about to interject, afraid that there would be a fight, when Gimli suddenly spoke. "So, King Thranduil, I believe I owe you thanks."

Thranduil's eyes widened. "Whatever for, Master Dwarf?"

Grunting again, Gimli shifted uncomfortably, not quite sure what possessed him to speak to this Elf who was notorious for not liking Dwarves. "Well, you saved my best friend. Don't you think that merits a thank you?" He quickly added, "I know he's your son and all, but I wanted to thank you too. If you hadn't saved him, we'd have both been killed."

The King was speechless. Probably for the first time in his long life. "Well, I...I...you're welcome," he muttered, not sure what to make of this situation.

The two stared at each other, both red in the face. Then, they started to laugh.

Hard.

Thranduil clutched his chest, laughing through the pain and Gimli tried desperately to stop shaking.

Legolas kept quiet, amused by this exchange.

Thranduil looked to Gimli. "Well, knowing my son's penchant for getting injured these days, I am certain I owe you thanks for saving his life _sometime_." He looked over at Gimli, smiling. "So, thank you Master Dwarf, for any and all times you saved Legolas' life."

Gimli bowed his head and smiled. "You are very welcome." Seeing that their conversation was not going unnoticed, he smiled and said with much mirth in his eyes, "So, tell me about Legolas when he was a child? Was he as prissy and troublesome back then as he is now?"

Legolas' eyes widened.

Thranduil laughed. "Worse, Master Dwarf. Let me tell you about the time he climbed a tree with an abandoned spider's web in it and was stuck fast in the web for hours before we found him!"

Legolas' eyes widened even further. "_Adar!_"

Two sets of bright, feigning-innocent eyes turned on the Elf Prince. "Yes?"

"I...what...you can't tell him _that_ story!"

Thranduil laughed. "Sure I can. Just how do you plan to stop me?"

Legolas' mouth hung open. Then, he sputtered and muttered darkly. "Of all the luck...my father, infamous Dwarf jailer; conspiring with my dwarf friend, son of one of those long-ago inmates, and telling him embarrassing stories of my childhood. Who'd have thought?"

Gimli and Thranduil laughed out loud at that and then hunkered closer as Thranduil began the tale of Legolas and the spider web.


	18. Intentions Revealed

**_Reviewer responses for Chapter 17: _**

**Deana**: Glad you enjoyed! The scene with Thranduil and Gimli was added since my original, lets-post-the-whole-thing episode. Glad I revised huh??!

**Mornflower**: Always a pleasure to read your reviews and your little 'skits'! How DID Captain Sparrow weasel his way into that!? He isn't in my story skims down the pages to checkNOPE, not there. Enjoy!

**Tonianne**: WELCOME BACK AGAIN! Glad you liked the last few stories and I'm pleased you think so highly of the story! Thanks for the compliments!

**Zammy**: Uh...here you are!

**Karone Evertree**: Nope, not stuck as non-Elf or 'human'! (I couldn't do that to my favorite Elf!!) Glad you liked the Gimli/Thranduil scene!

**Chantal1409**: Hello again! Here is the more you were wanting to read...

**InsanePirate624**: YUP...the graceful, seemingly-infallible Elven Prince...stuck in a spider web. HEHE. Thanks for the compliments...I appreciate it very, very much!

**Pirate Gyrl**: Here is what Aragorn is gonna do about it....hesitatesACTUALLY...just read on...you'll see his plan! (And yeh, poor Legolas!)

**Kelsey**: You are surviving high school then? Sorry to hear about your gym teacher and the running five miles a day...that doesn't sound too fun! Good luck with that and the 700 page novel. As for your likes in the chapter, that's cool. I had thought of Legolas ever bringing home a spider since I saw a picture drawn of that exact scenario. Interesting thought. As for your questions...not telling, but I can assure you there is a bunch more to go and there is plenty of angst and twists in the plot to go round. Enjoy the post...

**Gozilla: **Glad that you enjoyed it...here's another one!

**Queenshadow: **Glad that you were finally able to track the story down, hope you enjoyed the chapters, and here's another one!

* * *

**Chapter 18: _Intentions Revealed_**

Aragorn sat under a great willow tree, his head buried in his hands, mind reeling with the news Lord Elrond had brought. _With child? How can I have been so blind? Why didn't she tell me? Perhaps she didn't know either. Why didn't I see her kidnapping, why didn't I save her?!_

Silent tears began to fall. The world wasn't fair; evil was supposed to have been vanquished when Sauron was destroyed. Now his wife and unborn child were in the grasp of a Dark Lord who had accomplished as much, if not more, then Sauron had.

Tears came more freely now, the King's shoulders began to shake and heave with every hitching sob. He tried to stop the onslaught of emotion, but was unable to do anything about it. _Better to get it out alone then to have the others see me crying like a child._ He took a few deep breaths in an attempt to calm his breathing. _I will save her. If it is the last thing I do, I will save her._

Aragorn's hand fell to his waist, the hilt of his sword felt good in his hand. He felt he had power; the power to save Arwen. Then his hand brushed another thing at his side. He glanced down, momentarily at a loss as to what he had touched.

His eyes closed and he held back another torrent of tears. _Arwen's sword...how it reminds me of her now. _He fingered the beautifully wrought elvish weapon, tracing the hilt with his finger. It dawned on him now what should be done with it. _Lord Elrond deserves to carry this sword once again, until it can be returned to its rightful owner._

Resolved, he stood hastily and retreated back toward the homely lights of the Green Dragon. To his relief, he had no need to go inside to summon the elf. As Aragorn reached the pub, Elrond stepped out, lightly wiping his hands with an already reddened cloth, Vilya sparkling in the waning sunlight.

"_Ada_, could I have a moment of your time?" Aragorn did not come any closer, choosing to keep his distance even from his foster father. "I have need to speak with you about something."

The Elf lord did not hesitate a second. He nodded and moved to follow the already retreating form of Aragorn, sighing lightly when he saw the shudder in the man's shoulders. He wondered inwardly what the man would say.

Soon, they reached a willow tree. Here, Aragorn turned to face Elrond. Reaching to his side, he pulled a sword from his belt and Elrond's face fell. "_Ada_, I give you Arwen's sword to keep once again until the day it can be returned to her." He held the weapon out to the Elf, his hand trembling.

Stepping forward, Elrond could not take his eyes from the sword. It was a chilling reminder that his only daughter was in the hands of the enemy. Not that he needed a reminder, for it would not leave his mind until she was found.

"Estel, I will guard this sword and keep it safe until that day," he took the sword, now looking into Aragorn's eyes. "Until that day when she is safely returned to us and I have the pleasure of returning it to its rightful owner." He hesitated, not sure if he should touch Aragorn or refrain from physical contact. He chose the former and laid a hand lightly on the man's shoulder. "We will find her and save her."

The Elf Lord's voice wavered slightly as his mind flitted to memories of another female dear to his heart that the Orcs had taken captive. Celebrian, his wife, now safely in Valinor, had suffered greatly at the hands of those vile creatures and his heart broke thinking of Arwen in their custody.

Aragorn's eyes darkened and his hand tightened on his own sword. "Yes, we will. I will not let harm come to her while I still have strength to fight."

A wan smile crossed Elrond's face. "It is not our fight to win, Estel. The fight against Graelath will come to Legolas, but we will not let him face it alone."

The man nodded, turning back toward the willow tree, signaling the end of the conversation. Elrond didn't need any further message, he knew Aragorn wanted to be left to his thoughts and right now the Elf Lord found he had few words of comfort anyway.

Sighing lightly, he turned and headed back to the Green Dragon to check on the Gaffer. As he walked through the door with Arwen's sword in hand, Elladan, Elrohir and Legolas all looked at him expectantly. He only shook his head, signaling that he had accomplished nothing in the way of comforting Aragorn.

Elladan and Elrohir frowned. "I wish there was something we could say to him," Elladan commented to no one in particular, drawing the attention of Frodo and Sam, who were seated at the Gaffer's bedside.

The Elf's twin sighed, resting his head on his hand as he leaned on the bed of Gimli, momentarily surprised at himself that he was so close and at ease with a dwarf. But then again, this was Gimli who had been declared an _Elvellon_ {elf-friend} by his own grandmother.

"I don't think anything we say will help him, Elladan." The dark-haired elf, glanced momentarily at Legolas in another bed. "We both love Arwen dearly, but Estel's love is different and he feels guilt at her kidnapping."

Legolas was listening to the conversation. Though he doubted anything he said would have any affect on his friend's feelings, he would not let Aragorn sit and sulk alone. And he resolved that no one was going to stop him this time.

Rising slowly so he didn't jar any injuries, the blonde-haired Elf moved toward the doorway, seeing Elrond move to intercept him. He stopped, looking at the Elf lord with a sigh. Elrond put a hand on his shoulder. "I do not think Estel wants company right now, Legolas. He does not want anyone's sympathy."

Legolas looked Elrond straight in the eye and said grimly. "I do not plan to offer him sympathy, nor do I plan to try to ease his guilt. I simply wish to be there with him, even if means saying nothing to him. I can share his guilt at her kidnapping, we were both there." That said, he shook out of the Elf's grasp and scurried out the door before he could be stopped again.

Galadriel came up behind Elrond and sighed wistfully. "Estel is blessed with loving friends, Elrond. Legolas is right to go to him; he needs support even if he will not ask for or accept it." She turned away, smiling at her grandsons.

Elrohir looked at his brother again. "Legolas is a good friend, if anyone can comfort Aragorn now, he can. They both share their guilt at her kidnapping and they both know what it is like to lose someone dear to them"

* * *

Elladan knew that his brother referred to Legolas losing his mother and most recently, his dear sister. They all loved Arwen; they were all grieving in their own ways. The brothers hoped that Legolas could offer some solace to Aragorn.

_I hope he doesn't resent my intrusion, _Legolas thought to himself as he neared the slouched figure of Aragorn under the willow tree. He was somewhat surprised that the ex-Ranger didn't seem to notice his approach. He laid a hand on the King's shoulder, frowning when Aragorn jumped.

_Curse the ability of Elves to be so quiet! _Aragorn said to himself. He hadn't even known Legolas had arrived until the Elf had touched him. If it had been an enemy, Aragorn would have been dead before realizing he was no longer alone. _I need to get a hold of myself; I can't be so off guard!_

He turned to face the newcomer, surprised when Legolas said nothing. The Elf looked at the man for a second, then sighed and glanced up at the swaying branches of the willow tree. "Willows always were calming when I was younger," the prince said wistfully. "I do not see them nearly enough anymore." He said nothing else, sitting himself down on the ground beside the King.

Aragorn looked thoughtfully at his friend, and then he too watched the motion of the tree. "I can see how they could be calming," he said quietly. "But the trees cannot calm my raging mind, Legolas. I can't get over this guilt I feel, like I failed Arwen, I let her be kidnapped. Guilt that I did not know she was pregnant. How could I not know?" He broke off, not sure he wanted to hear what the Elf was undoubtedly going to say.

"Aragorn," Legolas said, pausing until the man was looking at him. "What is done is done; there is nothing we can do to change that now. Stop thinking about what you could or should have done; let us focus on what we will do now." He sighed. "And as for not knowing Arwen was with child...we know why Lord Elrond and Lady Galadriel likely knew of it, but you...you have had a lot on your mind lately."

He paused, as if contemplating his words. "Think about it, Aragorn. Not only are you forced to deal with all the pressures placed on your shoulders as King, but then Graelath chose to strike which has brought even more stress into your life. You've been traipsing around Middle-Earth, saving me and my father, riding to Rivendell, Rohan, and then to the Shire...there has been so much going on that it's a wonder we are still sane. Overlooking Arwen's symptoms was easy to do...we all overlooked them, not just you. I do not think Arwen will blame you for anything, _mellon nin._"

Aragorn said nothing for a few long minutes, and then he straightened up. "You are right, Legolas. I can not change what has happened, but I can plan for Arwen's rescue. It pains me to think of her in the hands of that wizard."

The Elf nodded, but said nothing. Instead, he put a hand on Aragorn's shoulder. "You are not alone in your grief, though your grief may run deeper than mine. I will not let you bear this burden alone, Aragorn. And neither will the others." He turned until he could rest both hands on the man's shoulders. "Your friends are with you Aragorn; we will get through this together."

A small smile crossed the king's face. "I have no doubt we will, Legolas. The strength of the Fellowship and of the Ringbearers is great. We will prevail." The two sat in silence, looking past the swaying branches of the willow to where the sun finally dipped down past the horizon, giving way to the moon and a peaceful night.

* * *

_Graelath's Fortress... _

The mist was everywhere, shrouding even Arwen's sight. Somehow, the Uruk leader knew where he was going in the low visibility and he dragged the Elf at a breakneck speed toward their destination.

Suddenly, the mist parted and a tall tower appeared on the mountainside. The top was jagged and unnatural, jutting into the dark sky. It was roughly hewn, black as coal and windowless. Arwen cringed at the sight, before turning to gaze at the trees in the distance, knowing that this was the last she would see of the forest for a long while.

"Move it, Elf," cried the Uruk as he tugged viciously on Arwen's arm, nearly tearing the limb from the socket. Arwen cringed and obeyed, grimacing in pain, her vision swimming. Her nausea grew and crested, then subsided as quickly as it had come. The sickness was getting worse.

As the group entered the tower, a majority of the orcs broke off from Arwen and the Uruk, leaving them with a guard of five Uruks; still far too many for the wounded Elf to escape from. "My Master has waited long for this moment, he has had his eye on you for years," the Uruk taunted, unable to hide his hatred of Arwen.

Arwen remained silent, full of trepidation. _Graelath has had his eye on me? Why would I interest him? Has he been planning this for that long? _She had no idea what the wizard could want with her. Her questions were soon to be answered.

"Queen Arwen Undomiel, long have I awaited this meeting." Arwen's head snapped up, causing pain to lance through her temple. She strained to see in the darkness of the tower, her eyes adjusting to the difference in lighting. They fell on a tall, handsome man. His eyes were black as coal, which was the first thing the Elf noticed.

He wore a black cloak and carried a twisted black staff. If she had to venture a guess, everything he wore and owned would be black. But he was handsome, if not as much as Aragorn.

"I do hope my faithful Uruk-hai and orcs have not harmed you too much, I would hate to lose you so soon after our meeting," he came closer, each step echoing in the hall. "I had hoped we would be afforded much time together."

As he reached her, the wizard moved to brush hair from her face. Arwen backpedaled, falling into the Uruk leader who shoved her forward as if she had burned him. The queen stumbled and would have fallen if Graelath hadn't caught her.

"Now, now, Ruklac, let's not be so rough." Graelath's hand lingered on Arwen's stomach and his smile widened. "We wouldn't want to harm anyone now, would we?"

Arwen's face twisted into a scowl and she swatted the man's hand from her. "Don't touch me wizard, you know not what consequences your actions will accrue," she cried, trying to muster all the strength she could.

To her dismay, Graelath only laughed. "Oh, is that the best you can do Queen of Gondor? I had thought you would be more intelligent than that." He spun on his heel and turned away from her. "I bet you have wondered why I have brought you here. Or perhaps you have not?"

Glad to be free of the Uruk's grasp, Arwen rubbed her raw wrists. "You wish to use me to draw King Elessar from Gondor, to control him by threatening to kill me if he does not heed your desires. All villains are the same, they seek to control through loved ones. It will not work on Elessar; he is a good and righteous King and will not sacrifice a world for me."

He words were bold and her voice unwavering. She truly was a formidable presence when she wanted to be, having lived with her grandmother for so long, ever since her own mother had sailed to the Undying Lands. There were few who dared to stand up to her when she was truly angered. But it didn't seem to faze the age-old wizard in the slightest.

Graelath nodded, but laughed. "Yes, that was my original intent...until a moment ago." He turned back toward her and continued, "Until a moment ago when my mind was made up at the sight of your exquisite beauty and perfect being. And the sensation I felt when touching you."

The Queen was disgusted and she faltered. "What? I do not understand."

She almost didn't want to hear his explanation, but he went on. "You are beautiful, Queen Arwen. I have no doubt you knew this, for you are the fairest of your people... and a fitting bride for the soon-to-be ruler of Middle-Earth. A bride who is already carrying an heir for me."

"I will never be your Queen, you vile, evil, ruthl...." Arwen stopped her irritated tirade. "Heir?" She was speechless, the words slowly, ever so slowly, sinking in. _Heir? I am with child? That explains the morning nausea and my moodiness. How could I have missed this?_

Graelath obviously realized he had surprised the Queen. "I see my words come as news to you." He stood directly in front of Arwen, staring at her. "Can it be the great King and Queen of Gondor did not know they were soon to be parents?" He laughed again. "Well, no matter, this will work to my advantage. Though, I will have to sire someone to continue my own race, Elessar's child will not be Ethaim."

Arwen cringed at the thought, feeling her nausea increase, although this time it was solely caused by the thought of what the wizard intended to do to her, not from her pregnancy. "You are a sick man, Graelath. I will never submit to you, nor will you get what you desire! Greed will be your undoing in the end." She leveled a steady, intimidating glare at him, locking eyes with him and holding them as she spoke. "Mark my words, you will not come out of this on top!"

Graelath smirked, gesturing to Ruklac, "Oh, if you don't want to cooperate I have ways of making you." He spoke to the Uruk-hai. "Take her to the north turret and see to it she is locked tightly away. And, Ruklac, no rough-housing, I want her to remain beautiful."

Arwen struggled vainly in the Uruk's grasp even though she knew it was useless.

Graelath watched her until she was out of sight, and then spoke slowly. "With child...what a pleasant surprise. And I am certain Elessar and company have learned of this by now, I could not have planned it better myself."


	19. Friends Divided

_**Reviewer responses to Chapter 18:**_

**Queen Shadow (Chapter 15 review): **Yeah, 'white guy'. I thought it was hilarious when I wrote it...I wanted Lowgala to seem a bit funny. I mean, wandering alone for so many years, talking to oneself; could make you a bit loony.

**Deana: **Thanks...here is more!

**Kelsey: **Wow! That is a LOT of REALLYs! LOL. Thanks so much! Glad you liked it. I don't know if you have said in-so-many-words that you love this fic, but heck...I'm thrilled to hear it! I too like Fellowship fics, I just had to insert them, and they are wonderful characters. Yeh, Galadriel must have gotten around in her...uh...youth. She knew him, but I won't go so far as to say that she was VERY close to him. She was friendly enough to learn Etrain from him though...and to be saddened by his murder. The final battle...not TOO long now. (Ah what am I saying...there is a bit more to come still!)

**Zammy: **gaspsYOU said more then please update soon! grinsI love that you review without fail...thanks for that. I'm sorry I couldn't get this up sooner, but my beta and I have to be able to work over these before posting them!

**Pirate Gyrl: **LOL... 'School-boy-crush'? WELL, Arwen was supposedly the fairest of her people, right? Who WOULDN'T want to marry her!? No, Graelath wasn't as handsome as any of the guys you mentioned. He was...perhaps...good-looking! BUT he wasn't some shriveled up old wizard with a nasal voice or anything! Glad you enjoyed that last post.

**Mornflower: **Hey there! Glad you liked the chapter...I'm awed you didn't have anything to say! Maybe I can look forward to a little Morn/Legolas/Aragorn banter in the next review???

**Alatariel Narmolanya: **Hey...welcome to the world of reviewing my story! Glad you did and I am glad you like it! What's gonna happen next? Well, read on...

**Karone Evertree: **Yeh, poor everybody but Graelath. Though, I guess you can feel sorry for him losing his whole family so tragically...but not really.

**Mooyasha: **This is the ONLY LotR fic you've read!? Wow...I'm honored! LOL. There are a lot of good ones out there, but I hope you continue to read this one. I like to hurt Legolas, as you shall see in later chapters, but I won't damage him beyond repair. As for Gimli...I don't rightly remember if I hurt him in later chapters. Hmmm...we shall see. Thanks for reading!

**InsanePirate624: **Yeh, he is evil and sick. Thinking that Arwen will EVER marry him or submit to him in ANY way. Not gonna happen! He will pay... I mean, c'mon...you have Aragorn, Legolas, the twins and Elrond there with bones to pick!!!

* * *

**Chapter Nineteen: _Friends Divided_**

_Hobbiton..._

Aragorn had finally come in from under the willow tree, but everyone except Legolas was tactfully avoiding him for fear of upsetting the man. It seemed as though he hadn't noticed, but the Elf prince knew better, the silence was eating away at Aragorn.

"I don't know why they are all looking at me like that," Aragorn finally said, stooping over Gimli to check the leg wound, ignoring the wide eyes the dwarf was staring at him with. "I'm not going to get agitated if someone speaks to me! I can control my emotions!" He jumped when Gimli smacked his hand.

The dwarf's eyes were like daggers. "Please, Aragorn, if you plan to tend my wound be certain it is the first and foremost thing on your mind." He gestured down at the man's hands. "You were about to put the bloody bandage _back_ on, instead of putting on the new one."

Lower, so that no one else but Legolas and Aragorn could hear him, the dwarf continued. "I think the others, myself included, are frightened to speak to you because we do not wish to intrude on your grief." He sighed. "Nor do we know what to say."

Aragorn nodded, then looked again at the wound and grasped the clean bandage, apologizing profusely for his lack of attention, inwardly chiding himself for the blunder. Legolas laughed suddenly.

"And what do you think is so funny, Master Elf?" Gimli grunted, trying to hold in any sign of pain.

The prince looked about to refuse to answer, but he sighed. "Nothing really, I just felt the need to laugh. I know it is completely inappropriate given the circumstances, but it felt really good to do it."

He looked at the weird glances his friends were casting him and shrugged. "Hey, perhaps all the injuries I've received recently have gotten to my head."

Aragorn chuckled, "Now _that_ is funny, an Elf admitting that he is crazy. I never thought I'd see the day." Gimli also snorted at that, always happy to laugh at anything that lowered the pedestal Elves stood on.

Gimli couldn't resist the temptation. "So...Legolas? What was it like being stuck in a spider web in a rain storm?"

The Elf's eyes widened. Aragorn looked between the two in awe. "Spider web? Rain storm? What in the world are you talking about Gimli?"

Thranduil laughed from just behind the king. "That would be my doing, Aragorn. I told Gimli of a time in Legolas' youth when my son managed to get himself stuck fast in an abandoned spider's web in the middle of a fierce rainstorm."

Aragorn looked back at Legolas and Gimli, seeing the scathing look in the Elf's eyes and the amusement and barely contained mirth in the eyes of the Dwarf. "Great, you gave Gimli another thing to lord over Legolas with!"

"_Another _thing?" Legolas cried, rather loudly.

"Yes," Gimli said happily. "Whether you chose to remember or not, it was I who killed more Orcs with my axe at the Battle of Helm's Deep." Grinning from ear to ear, he added. "Or have you shut that from your mind?"

Tightlipped, Legolas didn't answer for a moment. "It had slipped my mind, Gimli, for I have beaten you so many times since that it is lost in my sea of victories."

It was Gimli's turn to grumble as everyone laughed at Legolas' words. But even though Aragorn laughed, he was still somewhat depressed.

"Sorry to interrupt, Sirs, but Lord Elrond, Lady Galadriel and Gandalf wish to speak with you," Sam had snuck up on the four and was blushing ear to ear at having overheard the tail-end of the conversation.

Aragorn nodded and sent Sam off as he finished tending the wound. "Well, Gimli, that should hold for a while. Do you feel up to coming with us?" The King knew the dwarf would not abide being left behind and was not surprised when he began forcing himself up.

Legolas lent a hand, gently pulling Gimli to his feet and steadying the shaking dwarf. "Easy, _mellon nin,_ I don't think you ought to be falling now."

The four slowly made their way to the large table that had been set in a far corner of the tavern-turned-hospital. Before sitting down, Aragorn locked eyes with Elrond who nodded and smiled lightly at him.

Relief flooded the king. Elrond didn't blame him for Arwen's kidnapping. _I don't know how I could even have worried that he might, _the man thought to himself; _Adar is wise and he would never blame me for such an event. _Though he knew that the thought would never cross his foster father's mind, he was glad for the small bit of reassurance just the same.

"We have been discussing our next course of action," Gandalf said, beginning the meeting. "Obviously the rescue of the Queen is of utmost importance, as are the continuing safety of the Shire and the protection of both Gondor and Rohan. We have a lot on our plate gentlemen...and Lady." The wizard smiled lightly at Galadriel who dipped her head in acknowledgement of the gesture.

She spoke now. "I have foreseen aide from Lothlorien, though I do not know when or where it will appear," she said, looking at no one in particular. "Any aide will be welcome, as I do not see how we are to protect all realms and seek out Graelath all at once." She gestured for Lowgala. "Please, friend, explain where we might find the wizard."

All eyes turned to the small, stunted creature seated between Elrohir and Elladan. He shrank from the stares of those around him, for the first time in a long time, he was speechless. Elladan frowned and bent down to him.

"Do not fear anyone here, Lowgala, we are all friends."

The creature nodded, his eyes locked on Legolas. He did not speak. Elrohir spoke now. "You have no reason to fear Legolas, Lowgala," the dark-haired elf said, seeing the trepidation in the creature's eyes. "He has been a friend for many, many long years and we trust him with our lives."

At those words Lowgala began to relax. "Well, the mountains were long and perilous, yes they were..."

It took a while but they were finally able to extract viable directions from Lowgala, deciphering his quirky descriptions into known landmarks.

Elrond frowned when they were finished with the discussion. "I can not believe how close Graelath has been to Rivendell all these years," the Elf Lord muttered, lightly shaking his head. "How we did not discover nor sense his presence I do not know, but I feel guilty for it nonetheless."

Galadriel shook her head. "No need to feel guilt, _mellon nin_, we all were oblivious to his presence. What matters now is that we decide who will go where."

She had brought up the subject they were all dreading. No one wanted to miss the rescue of Arwen; they all wished to see her safe from the wizard. But someone had to protect the Hobbits in case there was another attack.

"Well, Legolas is a given in rescuing Arwen, as is _Adar _and _Daernaneth_ {Grandmother}_," _Elladan said, looking to his brother for confirmation. Gandalf nodded.

"Yes, that is correct, Elladan." He looked to Legolas who refused to look anyone in the eye. The elf was lost in thought, but no one wished to call him on it. "I will also go to her aide, as will you and your brother no doubt."

All eyes fell on Aragorn. The King shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "My heart wills me to go to my wife; my mind tells me I might do well to go to Gondor. But I must follow my heart; I must put faith in Faramir. Besides, without Gweluthand I am just as vulnerable as the other men. Destroying Graelath and rescuing Arwen is our only hope." He looked up now, determination in his eyes. "I will go to her rescue as well."

"As will we." All eyes turned to face Merry, Pippin, Frodo and Sam. Gimli nodded. "And I." He looked at the Hobbits and continued. "The Fellowship will not let three of its number go on such a perilous mission alone. We wish to stand by Gandalf, Aragorn and Legolas as we did against Sauron."

"Then it is decided," Gandalf said. "Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli and the Hobbits, along with myself, Lady Galadriel, Lord Elrond and the twins. Lowgala need not accompany us if he does not wish to."

But he did wish to. Lowgala jumped from his seat so fast, everyone thought he would topple over. "I don't want to leave Mr. Elladan and Mr. Elrohir. They are my great friends and I wish to help them."

Erestor broke in too, leaning in toward the group from where he had perched himself against a wall. "I will not be forgotten, nor left behind. My wounds have healed greatly. I have known Arwen since she was born and I wish to be part of her rescue."

The advisor locked eyes with his Lord, hoping for his blessings. "Though I doubt you are healed, I can not deny you this request, Erestor," Elrond said, a faint smile on his face.

Up until this point, Thranduil had been silent. "What about me?" he said, his eyes shining with emotion. "I lost my only daughter to a brutal death because of this wizard. Do I not have a claim in his downfall; in his defeat? I want to go too."

Elrond shook his head. "I cannot allow it, Thranduil. You tore those stitches just by throwing a knife. I do not think it wise for you go with us as there will be much fighting. Please heed my counsel."

Shaking his own head, Thranduil argued, "No, someone must avenge the death of Maranwe, someone who was close to her!"

"What about me, _Adar_?" Legolas' voice piped up from the other side of the table, a bit of contempt in the tone. "Do you not think I am worthy enough to represent Eryn Lasgalen and to get revenge for Maranwe's death? She was my sister and very dear to me."

The King of Eryn Lasgalen cast his eyes downward, mentally kicking himself for his lack of thought. _By the Valar_, _I have insulted him now. Can I do nothing right today? First I make fun of him, than I insult him..._

Looking up, he smiled weakly. "You are right, Legolas. You have represented not only Eryn Lasgalen, but our entire race, in far greater battles than this. I am sorry, I let my emotions get the best of me, I did not mean to insult you, _ion nin._ However, I still want to come, even if I do not fight. I want to stand alongside you, my son, and I want to see that wizard get the punishment that he deserves."

Legolas, to his credit, returned the smile. "If Lord Elrond has no objections, that is well with me, for I would like to stand alongside you in battle as well, _Ada_." He spoke with fire and determination.

Elrond sighed. "I do not agree with this course of action, but there is nothing that I can do to stop you, Thranduil. I pray that you will at least act with caution and allow us to help you, so that you do not further injure yourself."

Thranduil nodded. "I can agree to that."

"Then that only leaves the matter of who remains here to protect the Hobbits," Galadriel turned to Aragorn. "Estel, do you have anyone in mind who might command the Gondorian soldiers and the Rohirrim contingent in your absence? I have faith in Thranduil as a commander, but he is in no condition to command troops in battle."

The King shook his head, "A few, but I hate to leave a Captain in charge."

The Lady was about to continue when a young, sandy-haired Hobbit burst into the tavern and breathlessly ran toward the assembled Elves and company. "My...Lord...King Elessar," he panted, clutching his chest. "There is an Elf here...with many more Elves, most all blonde ones."

They needed no more prompting. Galadriel was the first out the door, her usual calm and unmoving demeanor gone in a heartbeat. Gimli heard her whisper "Celeborn" and he knew right away why she was in such a hurry.

He smiled, happy for the Elf, trying to keep up with the others as they hurried out of the building, eyes roving the road for the Elves in question. They soon appeared over the rise in the road.

There were many of them; all blonde and clad in shiny armor carrying long, carved bows as they filed down the road. In the lead was a tall Elf, dressed in splendid armor with a beautiful bow and skillfully wrought sword. His step faltered when he saw the welcoming committee.

"Galadriel," he whispered, hurrying forward. Much to the surprise of the onlookers, especially those who knew the pair, Galadriel and Celeborn embraced each other tenderly.

In a low tone, one that no one but themselves could hear, the Elves greeted each other, but quickly broke apart and assumed more formal roles. The others hurried over as well. "It is wonderful to see you alive, Lord Celeborn," Legolas was the first to find his voice.

"Good to see you as well, Legolas, Thranduilion, I had feared that all in Eryn Lasgalen had been lost." He turned to Thranduil next, then Elrond and the twins, greeting everyone in turn. "My Elves are tired from the journey, could you direct us to somewhere they can rest and recover?"

Merry and Pippin took it upon themselves to do this; Celeborn accompanied the remaining Fellowship and their friends into the tavern, cringing at the sight of the wounded Hobbits. "I am glad to see that few were wounded. It is a blessing that many of the Elves of Lothlorien have already sailed to Valinor; otherwise I fear we might have lost more."

Galadriel laid a hand on his arm. "Please, Celeborn, what of Lothlorien?"

The Lord looked down and his eyes betrayed his sorrow, despite his attempt to remain distant. "What I can make of it, a shadow overtook us all. We were unaware of the threat until it was upon us. Even I was affected, though the moment I suffered a flesh wound it was shaken. When we realized something was wrong, we destroyed the ladders to the platforms, but some Orcs and Uruks had made it up before then. Those with me are all who survived."

A moment of silence followed the revelation, each lost to his or her own thoughts. "A great tragedy this is, Celeborn. It pains me to hear of it. But we must not dwell on this news; we have much work to do. I believe our problem of who will remain is solved." Galadriel looked at Aragorn, who completed the thought.

"We will leave a contingent of Lothlorien warriors to help guard the Hobbits. Surely the combined strength of them and the men will be enough. But who to lead them?"

A voice sounded from the doorway. "I will remain and lead them, though it greatly pains me to not go to Arwen's rescue." All eyes fell on the tall, blonde Elf in the doorway. Elladan and Elrohir were the first to speak, surging up from their seats to greet the newcomer.

"Glorfindel! You are alive! It is wonderful to see you my friend!" The twins spoke over one another, completing each others' sentences in the unique way that twins seem to be able to do.

Directly behind him was someone none of them expected to see. An old, stooped over Hobbit, leaning on a scraggly stick.

Frodo jumped up, a huge grin on his face. "Oh, Bilbo! Is it really you? You are all right!" He hurried to the old Hobbit who looked up, squinting in the waning light.

"Frodo? Frodo, my lad, you are alive! How wonderful!" He would have patted the younger Hobbit on the shoulder, but found he had to keep a firm grip on his walking stick to remain standing. "Could you help an old Hobbit to a seat, perhaps?"

This was quickly done and banter ensued now that plans were laid for the morning. Galadriel and Celeborn, however, chose to take their leave of their companions. "We have much to discuss," was their only explanation.

"Discuss..." Gimli grunted. "I daresay they will not be discussing anything! Least not anything serious..."

Legolas and Thranduil sent him looks of pure awe. The dwarf simply shrugged and took a long swig of ale, avoiding any further explanation.

* * *

Settling back on his blanket in the crisp night air, Legolas stared up at the stars and quickly sank into deep Elvish dreams. Aragorn watched him, concerned that his friend had not partaken more in the conversation about Arwen's rescue. The King was certain something was bothering Legolas, but he didn't want to wake his friend. The Elf was in desperate need of sleep.

Laying back himself, he wasn't surprised that sleep did not come to him; he was far too preoccupied thinking of Arwen and the impending rescue operation. After several long moments, he surged to a sitting position when a cry of despair and terror split the calm air.

"No! Please don't be dead!" The cry had come from Legolas. Aragorn immediately noticed his friend was not fully awake, rather he was dreaming and screaming in his sleep. Scrambling to his feet, he restrained the Elf's struggling limbs, careful not to hurt his friend. Soon, the thrashing stopped and Legolas' eyes refocused.

He looked up at Aragorn, confused. "What is going on? Why are you holding me down, Estel?"

The king let go of his friend and explained himself. "You were thrashing rather violently from your dream. Will you tell me what it was that prompted such a reaction? Who died in your dream?"

Shaking his head, Legolas dismissed the question. "Do not worry, Aragorn. I have...had this dream before. It is nothing more then a nightmare, I was dreaming of Maranwe's death again."

That said, the Elf rolled over and appeared to go back to sleep. Knowing argument was futile; Aragorn did likewise, losing himself in his own thoughts.

Legolas did not go to sleep.

Instead he ran through his dream over and over again. _This cannot be allowed to happen! If he dies, all is lost he is far too important to be killed by Graelath! I have to do something about this! _Legolas glanced over at Aragorn and frowned. _It is I who must fight this wizard, not them. I should go alone, but I am certain they will not agree. They all love Arwen dearly and would not be idle when she is in peril. _He sighed. _I will have to break from the group during our journey. If I get to the tower first I might be able to destroy Graelath before they arrive. There will be fewer casualties this way. _

The Elf cringed, reliving his dream, knowing this was the only way to avoid the outcome that he had seen. Rarely was he gifted with foresight, as his powers were more latent than his mother's and sister's had been, but this was the second time during this ordeal he had visions during his sleep, the first being about the attack on the Shire. He could not afford to ignore this one.

_The Orcs and Uruk-hai were easy to defeat, the combined strength of all those present was too much for their feeble attempts to stop the onslaught of their attackers. While Celeborn held off Graelath's legions, the others hurried into the tower on Legolas' heels, anxious to get to Arwen. _

"_Hurry, I think it's this way!" The elf prince called, running quickly through the corridors, knowing somehow that Graelath was high in his tower, if not on the topmost level. _

_The others needed no urging. Suddenly, they spilled out into a large chamber, torches flickering on the walls and odd, twisted furniture neatly arranged around the room, throwing spidery shadows on the walls. There were no windows and the room made Legolas uneasy. _

"_Ah, so my plan to lure you all here worked then!" A voice echoed across the dark chamber, the source not visible to the newcomers. "I have something here you all want and many of you have things I want."_

_From a far entrance, a tall, red-haired man emerged. He was dressed from head to toe in black, his eyes dead and lifeless. His gaze fell on Legolas. _

_To his credit, Legolas did not move or acknowledge the stare. "Where is Queen Arwen? We demand you return her to us immediately!"_

_Graelath laughed. "Or you'll what? Kill me? Surely not, I have your precious Elf Queen, don't worry, but first I want to be certain that the Ringbearers have the Rings I want and that the King is here as well."_

_Seething with anger, Aragorn nodded. "We are all here, now where is my wife!?" Aragorn called out, his voice edged with anger. _

"_All in good time, King Elessar," the man said. Approaching now, he was obviously happy to be toying with those in his company. "Show me the Rings."_

_Fearing for Arwen's safety, the three Ringbearers did as they were asked. Graelath glanced between them, his gaze flicking to land on the simple, yet elegant pieces of jewelry. A smile broke out on Graelath's face. "Good, good. Give them to me." He reached out his hand half-heartedly, knowing they wouldn't give him the Rings so easily._

"_First give us Arwen," Legolas said, seething with anger as he took a step toward the man responsible for causing such pain...the man who had killed many of his people, his friends, his sister. "We will do nothing until we know she is safe and unharmed."_

_Graelath's smile disappeared and his eyes grew darker if that was even possible. "I will bring her out then." He snapped his fingers and an Uruk-hai, thick and strong, entered the room dragging the Queen behind him._

_Arwen didn't look terrible, though she sported numerous cuts and bruises. Considering the circumstances Aragorn felt she looked all right. The King took a step toward her. _

"_Oh no, you mustn't do that, King Elessar," Graelath said, shaking his head. Aragorn stopped. The Uruk holding Arwen was clenching her arm so tightly, she was grimacing in pain. Aragorn couldn't allow anymore pain to befall her._

_Legolas watched in horror as the King continued toward his wife, not heeding the wizard's words. Graelath smiled and before Legolas or anyone else could intervene, Aragorn was blasted back by a bolt of red light. _

_He landed with a thud on the stone floor, a sickening crack echoed through the hall. Legolas ran to his friend, his companions at his heels. Aragorn was choking, blood spilling from his lips, and confusion etched on his face. _

"_Don't speak," Legolas said, putting his hands on his friend to ascertain the damage. He was about to try healing the man when he felt something blocking him. Looking up, Legolas stared at Graelath who smirked. _

"_No, I don't think so Elf." _

_Legolas' face twisted in rage. He looked down at Aragorn and gasped. The King's eyes were shut, his chest unmoving. Aragorn was dead. _

"_No! Please don't be dead!" Legolas cried out.

* * *

_

Dawn came quickly and with it the rescue party rose to prepare for their journey. Legolas partook in the preparations, but he was silent and avoided Aragorn. The King wanted to push his friend for more information about the previous night's dream, but he didn't want to attract attention.

Before long, the party was perched atop horses, anxious to get on their way. The journey to the Misty Mountains wasn't terribly long, but they were determined to make haste. "Is everyone prepared? We must waste no more time." Aragorn was fidgeting in his saddle, impatiently watching Gimli being hoisted up behind Legolas on Arod.

"We are ready, Aragorn, be calm." Gandalf nudged his steed Shadowfax up next to the man. "Give Gimli a moment, he is wounded after all."

Aragorn was about to retort that his wife might be gravely wounded and in need of their assistance, but he thought better of it. Gimli was his friend and he wouldn't let his emotions toy with that friendship.

Once the dwarf was firmly situated behind Legolas, the party set out. Elladan and Elrohir bade farewell to Glorfindel, who stood watching the procession. The Elf waved his farewell and spoke parting words. "Good luck to you all; may the grace of the Valar go with you," the Elf Lord said.

Elves, Men and Hobbits watched in silence as the rescuers left the Shire, inwardly hoping that they would be successful in their endeavors. Much of the start of the journey went on in silence, occasionally someone would muster the courage to speak idly.

Even Legolas and Gimli were not partaking in their usual games of competition. For hours, the party rode at a fast clip, not galloping, but quick enough to satisfy Aragorn's determination for speed.

As the sun sank lower in the sky, Aragorn called a halt. "We must rest and eat," the king said as he dismounted Hasufel. "It would not be wise to push ourselves to the point of exhaustion; it would only mean Arwen's safety would be in jeopardy a little longer while we were forced to recover."

There had been no need to explain the reason for the halt, but for some reason Aragorn needed to say it for his own piece of mind. He hated the idea of stopping, but knew the importance of it. By using this excuse, he didn't feel so guilty for resting.

In a matter of moments, Sam and Pippin had a fire going and were frying sausages over the blaze. Merry and Frodo were busying themselves with the vegetables and potatoes. Looking on from a distance, Legolas almost wished the Hobbits would crack a joke. The silence and the tension were beginning to get to him.

Instead of breaking the silence himself, he chose to seek out a quiet corner of the camp to think. He would have to have a full-proof plan for his escape. Finding a tall willow tree, the Elf smiled. _Perfect. If I am calm I should be able to think more rationally. _Climbing the tree, Legolas settled himself in some of the highest branches he could safely perch on. Leaning back against the strong spine of the tree, he slipped into thought.

Meanwhile, Aragorn also sat alone. Only, he was watching Legolas closely from his seat at the fireside. _Why is he seeking solitude? I wish he would talk to me, I know he is still troubled by his dream. Of course...I didn't seek anyone's comfort or guidance when I heard of Arwen's pregnancy...I guess I can't really expect him to want my company._

Sighing, Aragorn ate in silence, turning his attention toward the conversation between Gandalf, Elrond, Galadriel and Celeborn. Elladan and Elrohir were regaling Lowgala with tales of the Elves, focusing primarily on their own perilous exploits and Thranduil was laughingly interjecting exploits of far older Elves from the Last Alliance.

From up in his tree, Legolas did not see nor hear the Hobbit approach. "Mr. Legolas? You really should eat you know...I brought you some vegetables."

Startled from his reverie, Legolas peered down through the swaying boughs of the willow. Sam stood holding a steaming bowl of vegetables, looking anxiously up at the Elf as if he would be punished if Legolas refused to eat.

Sighing, the elf prince launched himself from the tree and landed at the Hobbit's side, startling the poor creature. Sam frowned. "I wish you wouldn't scare me so, Mr. Legolas!" He chided, but he was smiling nonetheless. "Here." Handing the bowl to Legolas, Sam beckoned for the Elf to accompany him to the fireside.

Unable to refuse the Hobbit, Legolas went with him, seating himself beside Frodo. He immediately delved into his food, avoiding Aragorn's looks and busying himself with the task of eating.

Finally, Aragorn could take it no longer. "Legolas, please, tell me of your dream. I know you have been having dream visions, this might be of importance to the rescue and it is our right to know of it."

Legolas looked up, glancing around at all the eyes that now stood on him. He frowned. "The dream does not relate to the rescue, I told you I dreamt of my sister's death. You need not act on any vision, for I have not had any since the one about the attack on the Shire."

Aragorn shook his head. "If you think we are going to let you sacrifice yourself, or go on alone, or some other dangerous course of action, you are very wrong." He hadn't meant it to seem so patronizing, but the moment the words were out of his mouth, he regretted them.

Legolas' face clouded over and he stood quickly. "I know what I am doing, Aragorn. I am many years your elder, not some wet-behind-the-ears Elvish princeling." Having made his case, the Elf stalked off into the growing darkness.

Aragorn moved to follow him, but Elrond stopped him. "Leave him be, _ion nin_, he needs to be alone." Watching the prince leave, the Elf Lord continued. "Sometimes dream visions are hard to deal with. He just needs some time and then perhaps he will confide in someone."

"All right," Aragorn muttered. "I can respect that." _But it is I that I want him to confide in, no one else. _The King realized then that right about now, Legolas was more likely to confide in Graelath then he was Aragorn. _Next time I will remember to hold my tongue lest I completely ruin our friendship. _

Sighing, the man sat back down and watched until Legolas' figure had vanished into the forest. Looking to Elladan, Elrond said quietly, "Please, _ion nin_, follow him discreetly and see to it he doesn't do anything rash. Right now I do not trust that he will not strike off on his own."

Elladan glanced at his brother knowingly, then quickly stood and hurried off into the darkness. Thranduil relaxed slightly at this and refrained from following after his son himself. _Elladan is plenty capable of assuring his safety, _the King thought.

Galadriel frowned lightly. "We can ill afford our party breaking up now. We will need to work together in order to defeat Graelath. Legolas can not do this alone, though he may very well think he can and must."

The others contemplated her words, each inwardly worrying the same thing. _Would Legolas try to leave them? _

__

* * *

_Helm's Deep..._

The orc and Uruk army had reached Helm's Deep two days ago, but it appeared they were waiting for something because they had yet to attack the fortress. Eomer paced his throne room, uncertain about this odd behavior.

"Why do they not attack?" he said, angrily fingering his sword. "It makes no sense to march all this way and not attack. And why hasn't the shadow begun to overtake us?"

At his side, Eowyn was a shade calmer, but still in utter confusion. "I do not know why they haven't attacked!" She countered. "But I can only hope they continue to be idle. The more time we have the better. Are you really that anxious for a fight?"

Eomer, realizing the error of his reaction to the situation, sighed and sank into a chair. "You are right, sister. I should not be anxious for the fighting to begin. But I can not help but think that Graelath is holding his legions back until the rest of his army arrives. Then there will be enough of them to conquer us. Without Legolas, the shadow spell is unstoppable." 

Eowyn stood in front of him. "That might be so, but nonetheless, the longer they do not attack, the greater the chance that King Elessar and Prince Legolas will find and destroy Graelath."

The conversation might have continued, but Eomer and Eowyn were interrupted by the throne room door clanging into the stone wall behind it and a muttering being stomping into the room. "Lord Eomer, you said you would need our help in an upcoming battle, yet you have not called us to arms. Is something the matter? Did your adversary forget to show up?"

The newcomer looked at the king expectantly. He was stout and bearded, standing about 4 feet tall; a dwarf with a gruff voice and thick, dark red beard. Eomer sighed. "I am truly sorry to have disturbed your everyday routine, Hallin, however our adversary is here. He has just chosen not to attack for the moment, which believe you me is quite nerve-wracking."

Hallin didn't answer for a moment. Then he snorted. "What kind of enemy doesn't attack his opponent? Especially when said opponent is quite outnumbered? Even _with_ the dwarves I have in the caves, you are still not near as strong as that army you said you would be facing."

Eomer stood and gestured to Hallin. "Come, let me show you something." He led the way up a flight of steps and out into the blinding sunlight. As far as the eye could see, was the Orc army. Originally, knowing that the army would be spread between three realms, Eomer had thought they would not be so outnumbered.

They had underestimated the number of Orcs left in Middle-Earth for this was a grand army. Perhaps not as numerous as the army that his uncle, King Théoden, had faced during the War of the Ring, but a formidable opponent nonetheless.

Hallin sucked in a breath as he surveyed the sea of Orcs. "Well, this is quite an invasion force. But with the fortifications my dwarves and I have made to the walls of this fortress, I should like to think it will not be easily assaulted."

King Eomer smiled and patted the dwarf on the shoulder. "I too believe the Deeping Wall and the Hornburg are much better for all the improvements you and your people have made. I only hope that when the attack comes we will together be able to hold off the horde."

Eomer, Eowyn and Hallin stood on the wall overlooking the Orc army, careful not to be seen, waiting for the inevitable.

* * *

_Aragorn's Company..._

Legolas had rejoined the party shortly before they were to leave, almost as if he had known when Aragorn would call for them to rise. He had managed to mount Arod before anyone realized he was back, materializing from the mist of the morning.

Elladan wasn't far behind, having faithfully tracked the young Elf during the night. He was a little tired from the excursion, but knew he would have the opportunity to rest in Elvish dreams as they rode toward the Misty Mountains.

Aragorn glanced at Arod, half-surprised to see the Elf already perched atop the horse and half-relieved. _I really will need to speak to him later; this rift can not go on like this. Legolas is one of my closest and dearest friends._

Seeing his Elven companion upon Arod, Gimli hobbled over, grimacing. "Well about time you showed up, Master Elf. I was beginning to think I'd have to ride the beast on my own!"

Legolas, despite his depressed state, managed a wane smile. "We couldn't have that, now could we?" He chided, not really in the mood to get into a friendly spat with the dwarf.

As if sensing the Elf's mood, Gimli refrained from further banter and simply allowed himself to be hoisted up onto the horse behind the Elf. Elladan and Elrohir grunted with the effort and the latter laughed.

"For such a short being Gimli," he said, exaggerating a pant, "you sure weigh a lot." 

The three laughed, Gimli risking a glance at Legolas and relaxing when he saw the prince's shoulders shake with a held-in chuckle.

For the moment, Aragorn was satisfied that at least his brothers and Gimli might be able to ease the Elf's mind. Once the camp was successfully broken and all were mounted, Aragorn took the lead of the party, frowning when Legolas took up the rear.

Not long after they had begun the ride, Gandalf rode up alongside the King and said quietly, "He doesn't hate you, Aragorn. But the burden Legolas carries now is akin to the burden you once carried much of, the burden of the fate of Middle-Earth."

He said nothing else, but slowed his pace and rejoined Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn, leaving the King of Gondor to ponder his words. Aragorn had to admit, Gandalf had a way of seeing to the heart of the problem.

Little did the man know, his Elven friend had already hatched his plan and time for the healing of their rift grew short.

* * *

**A/N: Sorry for the long time between posts. BUT, real life is getting in the way, as is finding times when Phoenixqueen and I are online at the SAME time. grins**

**-Gwenneth**


	20. Revelations and Regrets

**_Reviewer responses for Chapter 19_**:

**Deana: **Yeh, almost at where I had posted till last time! I'm so glad you decided to read the revised edition! And I'll try to keep you updated on Friendship and Shadows...

**Mornflower: **YAY! You wrote a little skit for me!!! Cool! That was so funny! It makes my day to read your skit reviews! Thanks and I hope you enjoy this update!!!

**Pirate Gyrl: **Creepy dream...he he...now to see if it comes true right! (Just kidding...or am I?) Sorry about the wait for this update...I've been busy!

**Queenshadow: **Hey, I missed seeing your reviews!! Glad you caught up with us. I'm happy to hear you are enjoying it and I hope I will be able to post the rest in a reasonable amount of time!

**InsanePirate624: **Thanks...you aren't gonna be mad at me for the wait! YAY! You are SO kind to me in your reviews...I don't think I'm the BEST writer out there...I just try to write well-rounded stories! Thanks!!!

**Zammy: **Ahem...here...is...your...post!

**Kelsey: **COURSE I saved Bilbo and Glorfindel! (Once my beta reminded me they would have been in Rivendell!) Legolas...he seems to be acting on emotion right now, doesn't he? We shall see what he does.

**Moonyasha: **So sorry, but I had to stop there! Here is the update...

**Crystalcave: **Glad you liked the beginning...hope you eventually get to read this!! When you get to chapter 20! And glad you liked baby Legolas. (My beta deserves credit for that.) And the fight scene...well that was just so much fun! Glad you liked.

**Shadowfax2931: **Hmmm...how does he defeat Graelath? You will have to see! It's going to be a surprise, that's for sure. I've already written it...Glad you like it and I'm ALSO glad you have been surprised...that's the idea...don't want to be too predictable.

* * *

**Chapter 20:_ Revelations and Regrets_**

_Gondor..._

"My Lord Faramir?"

The young Prince of Gondor turned toward the tent flap and beckoned for the captain to enter. "Do you have news of the Orc army, Malgorn?" He waited, impatiently twiddling a small dagger in his hand.

The captain nodded. "Yes, my Lord." Approaching the map laid out on the table, the captain pointed to a spot just north of their current position. "It seems the Orcs have encamped themselves here. They have made no move to attack, nor does it look like they will. The shadow has not yet befallen the city either. I wonder if King Eomer is under attack now."

Faramir's heart thumped wildly in his chest and the captain, seeing his liege's reaction, immediately put two and two together and regretted the words. "I am sorry, Lord Faramir, I know you worry for the Lady Eowyn. But Helm's Deep is well fortified."

Nodding, Faramir dismissed the captain, preferring to be left to his thoughts for the moment. _Odd that the orcs have not taken advantage of attacking us when we are not at full strength? Even though the shadow has not been cast, Gondor is still greatly outnumbered. What is Graelath planning?_

The man had no idea, but he hoped that the King would be able to destroy the wizard before he DID have a chance to use his magic on Gondor and Rohan.

* * *

_Aragorn's Company..._

The Misty Mountains had been within view for a while now and the party grew restless. Only Legolas seemed calm, as though he had resigned himself to some fate the others were unaware of. Aragorn's fear grew as the silence between the friends continued. The man sought out his father.

"_Ada_? Might I have a word with you?"

Turning to find his foster son standing behind him, Elrond nodded and took his leave of Erestor and Gandalf. "What is it that troubles you, _ion nin?_" The Elf Lord asked, steering Aragorn toward the edge of the resting area.

Sighing, Aragorn looked his father in the eyes and said quietly. "I fear Legolas plans to leave us."

The Elf nodded as if he already knew this. "Yes, we have surmised as much. We will have to keep a careful eye on him."

Aragorn shook his head. "Legolas is very slick, Ada; something warns me he will be successful in his escape unless we watch him every second of the day and night. I do not wish for him to do anything rash and get himself killed. He is a stubborn Elf and his selflessness will get him killed if we are not careful."

For a moment, Elrond didn't speak. "We will do the best we can, Estel. But all the same, you should really speak to him; the rift between you two will not help our mission."

The man's face fell. Abruptly, he looked up at his foster father and his eyes narrowed. "What have you seen, _Ada_? Why do you make me feel as though my time with Legolas is short?"

The Elf Lord sighed lightly. "I have a gift of foresight; I know that as do you. I have not foreseen anything in particular, but I have a bad feeling about things." He paused, looking into the distance at the mountains Aragorn could barely see. "The feeling grows more worrisome as we continue." Looking back at his son, the Elf said quietly. "Go to him now."

With a heavy heard and troubled mind, Aragorn sought out the Elf in question. Knowing he would never be quiet enough to surprise his friend, Aragorn did not bother to tread lightly. Legolas turned at the king's approach. His eyes turned a darker shade of blue.

"Can I do something for you, Aragorn?" He asked, never breaking eye contact with the man, his voice cold.

Momentarily taken aback by the Elf's attitude, Aragorn squared his shoulders. He would not back down, he had to do this and he had to do this now. "Legolas, I came to apologize for what I said earlier. I did not mean to patronize you, _mellon nin_."

For a moment, Legolas did not answer. He wasn't sure he wanted to forgive the man that quickly. "You should have thought before you spoke, this is not easy for me, I do not know what I am going to do and I have many lives in my hands."

Reining in his anger, Aragorn carefully sculpted his words. "I know how you feel, Legolas. Trust me I do. My worry over Arwen has greatly affected my judgment." He paused. _No, that isn't the way to go...I'm trying to blame it on grief. _"Oh, forget that. I was wrong; I wanted you to tell me because I have a feeling I know what you are planning."

Legolas crossed his arms in front of his chest, but he did not speak. Instead he nodded lightly, waiting for the man to go on. Aragorn didn't hesitate long. "Someone obviously died in your dream. You said 'please don't be dead' and when you refused to tell me who you meant, when you brushed it aside and said that you were dreaming of Maranwe, I knew that you were not telling me the truth...I knew in my heart you saw my own death."

Though he was inwardly proud that Aragorn had realized this, he was also slightly worried. Without a doubt, the king would know he meant to strike off on his own. This complicated matters. "Aragorn, if I do not wish to share my vision with you, I will not. But since you have already guessed its nature, hear me now." Taking a deep breath, the Elf continued. "I foresaw your death. I know what must be done to prevent it. I will not needlessly allow myself to be killed in order to do it, so rest assured I am in no more danger then I would have been if I had not had the vision."

Somehow, this did not quell Aragorn's worry. He wanted more. "Legolas, promise me you will not strike out on your own."

Legolas was at a crossroads. He could outright lie to his friend and say he promised he would not, or he could refuse to promise and essentially guarantee he would leave them. Looking into the man's eyes, Legolas shook his head. "I can make no such promise."

Turning, he moved away, leaving Aragorn to his tormented thoughts.

* * *

Elrond, Galadriel, Thranduil and Gandalf had been watching the exchange warily. "So the prince does intend to go on alone," Galadriel muttered, her eyes lost in thought. "Cellnen made much the same mistake, thinking he could defeat Graelath alone."

Gandalf looked at the Elf and spoke quietly; glancing around to be sure no one was eavesdropping. "What happened to Cellnen?"

Galadriel turned slowly toward the white wizard. Her face was a mask of sorrow. "Cellnen sought to save us all, but he too was impetuous."

* * *

_Gold flashed amidst a sea of black stone. The air was stale and hot. Mordor. A realm most avoided, but not this day. The gold was quickly hidden beneath a black cloak. _

_Glancing around him, the being continued on; painfully aware that he was alone and that he was probably walking to his own doom. Death was not an easy concept to grasp for an Elf. Cellnen, his blonde hair hidden now under the cloak he wore, finally laid eyes on his destination. _

_Graelath's tower, undisturbed in the land of Mordor. _

_Everyone had warned him not to attempt this feat alone, but Cellnen did not want to endanger any more lives. Graelath was cunning and ruthless; Cellnen was growing weary from protecting people from the wizard's wrath...and this was something he had to do alone, in honor of the man that Graelath had once been._

_He was determined to destroy Graelath today, once and for all, no matter what it took. _

_From atop his tall, black tower Graelath smiled. "About time, Elf, I have long awaited this opportunity to kill you."_

_He went down from the tower to prepare for the arrival of Cellnen. _

* * *

Galadriel sighed. "We only know what happened to him because of a very small witness, an unnoticed witness."

* * *

_Cellnen entered the large chamber, which was lit only by the flickering light of torches. The wavering quality of the light cast long, spidery shadows along the walls and floor; shadows which seemed to engulf everything that they touched._

_Flanking him on either side was an orc, there to prevent the Elf from escaping, but Cellnen had no intentions of trying to escape just yet. He had a mission to fulfill first, and he wouldn't consider the future any further than that mission now, wouldn't allow it to distract him from his own personal quest._

_Cellnen waited quietly, not saying anything, nor did he attempt to move. His eyes were focused on the door on the far wall, and within a few moments, his patience was rewarded as a tall black shape flowed through the door, stopping just in front of the golden haired elf._

_Graelath smirked as he studied the elf. Cellnen's eyes were locked on the dark wizard, yet he didn't speak. Finally, Graelath broke the silence by dismissing his servants. He wanted to face Cellnen, and this battle, alone._

_The orcs shuffled out of the room. Graelath began to slowly walk around the golden haired elf that had walked right into his tower and offered himself up to death. Cellnen didn't move, and didn't look at the wizard._

_Despite his determination and resolve to end this conflict here and now, Cellnen couldn't suppress a shudder that washed through him as, with a wave of his hand, Graelath caused the doors to slam shut, leaving them alone._

_Like a cat stalking its prey, his strides fluid and graceful, Graelath circled the elf again, and then stopped in front of him, his black eyes meeting and holding the shining blue eyes of the elf that was now his prisoner._

"_And so we meet again, Cellnen." Graelath's voice echoed in the room._

_Cellnen dipped his head in acknowledgement, but didn't break his gaze from that of the Black Wizard's. "You know why I am here."_

"_Indeed I do. You were foolish to come here all alone, Elf, especially after all that you have done."_

_Cellnen's gaze didn't waver. His deep blue eyes shone with the radiant light that all elves possessed. "Foolish I may be, but this must end now, one way or another, my friend. I can no longer fight against you as I have been, so I choose to settle this here and now."_

_Graelath snorted and broke the gaze of the elf, who stood proud and tall in front of him. "You never had to interfere in the first place. If it wasn't for you, my revenge would have been complete by now."_

_Cellnen didn't blink. "I can not stand by and allow you to destroy all that is great and good in Arda." His voice softened, but didn't lose any of its conviction. "What happened to you, Graelath? Where did you go, and why have you lost your way?"_

_Graelath's dark eyes grew emotionless. "I have not lost my way, I have discovered a new way, a better way. If you insist on opposing me, then prepare to die, Elf!" Graelath stretched his staff out in front of him, prepared to use his magic to kill Cellnen. _

_The Elf shook his head. "You can not kill me with your magic, Graelath. I can shield myself from it." He looked closely at the man in black, his eyes filled with sorrow and an odd pleading. "We don't have to do this, Graelath. I know you suffered a tragic loss and still reel from it, but you are better then this!"_

_The wizard only shook his head. "Don't try to change my mind or my ways, Cellnen. You did that enough when we were friends, and like a weak fool I allowed you to... but not again. My path has been set and I will not allow a moment of sentimental memories to shatter my goals. There is no place in the future for you, Cellnen. "_

"_Then we are no longer friends? There is no hope left?" Cellnen said softly, his eyes shining with emotion. He really had lost his best friend and he was only now beginning to realize it. It hurt. It really hurt. And now he knew he was in grave danger. Deep down in his heart, he knew that he should have heeded the warnings of the Lady Galadriel and the others, but down in that same depth of his heart, he had also believed that Graelath would never harm him...he had been a fool, indeed._

"_There never was hope, Cellnen." Graelath said quietly, but with honesty. "My whole life was destroyed when my family was slain..." his voice hardened, "and I will have my revenge on the ones that caused their deaths. I will not be swayed from my path. You have interfered for the last time, and you will die."_

_Cellnen's eyes remained locked on the man that had once been his dearest friend, even as a silvery tear flowed down his cheek, catching the light of the torches and sparkling like a diamond. "Then the Graelath that I remember is truly dead...and I hope that he has found peace beyond the white shores."_

_He heaved a sigh, and with a quietly whispered word, called up _Gweluthand_. She responded as promptly as ever, her comforting blue glow easing away some of the pain in his heart. He faced Graelath squarely, hating what he was about to do. He stared into those emotionless black eyes, and shuddered. His friend was dead, and he had to keep reminding himself of that, or he wouldn't have the resolve to do what he must...but still Cellnen regretted the choice that he had made, and prayed that the Valar would pardon him for this, for it was nothing less than murder. _

_Graelath smirked. "So you think you can block my magic with that little blue mist, old friend?" He spoke the title with disdain and then he loosed a fire bolt of energy from his staff, knowing full well that it would not hit the Elf. He feigned shock. "That is not possible!" the wizard shrieked. _

_Cellnen shook his head as the fiery bolt crashed into Gweluthand and was absorbed by her magic, a magic as old as the world. He steeled himself in preparation to strike back, but he never got the chance._

_From the wall behind him, a single arrow flew threw the air. The force of the blow pitched Cellnen forward, surprise and pain written on his face. He fell on top of Graelath, his hands clutching the wizard's black robes as his lifeblood spilled from the wound in his back. His grip on the wizard weakened, and he could taste the metallic taint of blood in his mouth as he fell to his knees, then onto his stomach. _

_As his sight began to darken, the last thing that he saw was the comforting blue glow of Gweluthand as she faded back into the mists that she came from, her voice ringing in his head as she bade him farewell, for she would live on, once he was gone, her magic protecting her and sustaining her until another with the power to command her came along. With his dying breath, he whispered a prayer to the Valar, praying that somehow they defeat Graelath and hoping that his once best friend would see the error of his ways._

_Graelath watched as the shining light in the elf's eyes faded away and they became cold and lifeless, open but unseeing. For a moment, neither wizard nor Orc moved. A fleeting mix of emotions flashed in Graelath's eyes; sorrow, remorse and pain, for the murder of his family, and, surprisingly, for the death of his former best friend. _

_The emotions for the latter, however, were quickly gone and his eyes returned to their lifeless black. _

"_Thank you, Moroch," the wizard said, a smile now on his face as he non-too-gently flipped Cellnen over onto his back, breaking the arrow shaft that had pierced the Elf's heart. "Not too clever was he?" He swatted a large moth from in front of his face. "Take this disgusting thing out of my sight."_

_And he never felt remorse, sorrow, pain or friendship again. Now all he knew was anger and revenge._

* * *

Gandalf was in awe. "How in this world could Cellnen have been so careless?"

To this, Galadriel had no answer. "Pride, valor, bravery...but we shall never know the truth. Perhaps he may have thought his once close friendship with Graelath would save him. But I have seen much the same feelings in young Legolas and I do not doubt for a moment he will walk right in there and feel invincible. Gweluthand is not really a shield, but a cloak to protect from the shadow. She cannot repel real weapons."

Elrond interjected. "Surely Legolas knows this, do you really think he will be that careless?"

Galadriel turned to him, sorrow in her eyes as she answered his question with one of her own. "Do you really think Cellnen did not know this also?"

No one spoke; all of them turned and watched Legolas by the fireside, silently munching a piece of fruit with a look on his face that suggested he hadn't a care in the world.

Galadriel sighed again. "Cellnen had much the same aura to him the day he went off to confront Graelath. It was like he was resigned to something and felt he could not fail. We must see to it his fate does not befall Legolas."

Elrond nodded and moved off, seeking out Aragorn. "We must do as you say, watch the prince all times, day and night." That said; the Elf Lord walked away leaving Aragorn rooted to the spot, momentarily speechless. Then he hurried off to confer with his brothers and Gimli.

Thranduil stood motionless, his eyes locked on his only son, his only living relative remaining in Middle-Earth. _Valar, don't let my son kill himself. I don't know what I would do without him. _

Sighing, he seated himself to rest, never taking his eyes from Legolas, determined to make sure the Elf didn't leave.

* * *

_Damn this constant surveillance! I can't even go to the bathroom it would seem, without someone watching my every move. They know I plan to go on alone. How will I get away now? _Legolas frowned, glaring at Elladan as the dark-haired Elf glanced at him and shrugged his shoulders guiltily.

The elf prince growled to himself, ramming a newly fletched arrow into his quiver before he flung it over his shoulder and stalked toward a tall oak on the outskirt of the glade the company was resting in. Hauling himself up, he crossed his arms across his chest and glared out into the distance.

_What am I to do? I'll never get away now, I must think of something or Aragorn will die! _Just as he was about to pull out his daggers and sharpen them, Legolas was jolted into full awareness by a voice.

_: Legolas? I might be of some assistance to you...if you need a distraction. :_ It was Gweluthand! It hadn't crossed the Elf's mind to ask her help in something such as this. He grew excited and to avoid any attention, he answered her in his mind.

_What could you do for a distraction? I would need enough time to get a decent head start on them. _Legolas waited impatiently for the reply and was rewarded by a chuckle and an explanation. Smiling to himself, Legolas realized this might just work. It was worth the try to save his best friend's life.

When Legolas vaulted down from the tree, it didn't escape Galadriel's notice that the Elf was smiling happily. Her eyes narrowed and she wondered what had caused the sudden change of emotion. Something was up and it troubled her that she could not perceive what. Many called her a soul-searcher, and though her powers were great most of her knowledge came from simple observation and the things that others let slip when they were around her.

"Mr. Frodo?" Sam said, glancing at the other Hobbit. "You heard them talking, sure as I did. You really think Mr. Legolas will leave us?"

Frodo, who had also noticed the behavior of the Elf, frowned. "You know Sam, I think he might. I don't know why, but the Lords and Lady are very wise and if they are worried he will, I am worried he will."

Sam watched Legolas return to the fireside and join in light conversation with Gimli, Merry and Pippin. "You think he'll get himself killed?"

Frodo chose not to answer. He watched the Elf closely, trying not to imagine his deep blue eyes cold and lifeless as they would be in death. Somehow, he couldn't shake a feeling of foreboding.

* * *

_Graelath's Fortress..._

There was very little light in the fortress and this room was no different. No windows, only a small fire to light and heat the room. Yet it wasn't unpleasant if one was a captive. On a feather-filled bed lay Arwen, her hands lying protectively on her abdomen, lost in thought.

Graelath had surprised her to no end with his announcement of her pregnancy. The queen feared for her life, but more so for the life of her unborn child. What if Estel and the others were killed, unable to make it to her aid? Would she be able to allow her child to be raised by this monster?

_No, I would rather the child wander the Halls of Mandos then fall into the hands of that vile wizard. If there was no hope of rescue...would I be able to slay my own? To kill the child and save it from an evil life? _

She cringed, not wanting to imagine killing a child, let alone her own child. Suddenly, she sensed an approaching presence and surged up into a sitting position, her eyes focused on the wooden door as best they could in the poor light.

The latch lifted and she heard the bolt being thrown back. Slowly, the door opened and she saw the unmistakable black skin of an Orc. The creature sneered at her, its rotten teeth jagged and dirty. "The Master wishes you to join him for dinner," he chortled, slamming the door against the wall behind it.

Arwen made no move toward the door, fully intending to accept no nourishment from the wizard, especially after he had said he planned to marry her. No, she would not make this subjugation easy for Graelath.

Laying back down, Arwen tried to ignore the darkness and let her mind rest in Elvish dreams, where she could walk the paths of Rivendell and look up at the star-filled skies.

But the Orc, apparently, had orders to bring her in any fashion. So, he stooped down, grabbed her firmly by the arm, and pulled her to her feet. Arwen shrieked as pain shot up her arm then glared at the Orc.

"Wait until your _Master_ hears how you have treated me!" She spat, finding joy in the way the Orc shrank back at that statement. But he quickly recovered.

"Hurry up, Elf filth. Best not keep the Master waiting."

Arwen reluctantly did as she was told and followed the Orc from the room, keeping as much distance between him and her as possible. She knew she was not going to enjoy this meal.

* * *

The tower seemed to be a never-ending sea of black. As Arwen followed the Orc through the corridors, she did not see anything to break the monotony of the color. Black walls, black marble floors, even black tapestries.

_I could never live here, _Arwen thought. _I would die of grief; this place is no place for an Elf. _

Part of her wondered if she were to be stuck here with Graelath if she would remain immortal. He was immortal, so it was not the same as Beren and Luthien's fate. But, then again, she knew that when her father left, she would lose her immortality. It was not the person that she chose to bind herself to; her immortality was tied to whether or not she sailed with her father. _Does Graelath know that, I wonder? _

Lost in thought, she didn't realize they had entered a dining room. Looking up as the Orc halted; Arwen found herself in yet another black room. The large, oak table was varnished black as were all the chairs, and there were a lot of them.

Graelath, unfortunately, didn't give her time to ponder the room's décor. "Sit," he directed, pointing to a chair partway down the table from him. _At least he isn't making me sit NEXT to him, _she thought callously.

Taking the seat, she lightly rested her hands on the table and remained silent. Graelath, for his part, said nothing to her. Then, as if he had come through the very wall, a small man appeared. He was the first being besides Graelath and the Orcs that Arwen had seen.

The poor man was filthy, dressed in rags and looked as if his ribs would surely show beneath what little clothing he wore. He was bony and forlorn, glancing for a moment at Arwen in awe.

"Hurry, give us our meals and be gone with you!" Graelath called out loudly, annoyed that his servant was eying Arwen. To break the exchange between the she-Elf and the man, he spoke again. "Is there anything you would like to know about me, Queen Arwen? Seeing as you will soon be married to me, once I do away with what stands in my way."

Arwen glared at him, her blue eyes flashing with anger and disgust. "You still hold to that illusion, I see. Very well, tell me why you are such a vile, ruthless villain. What makes you think you have a right to kill and maim?"

Graelath looked to be seething beneath the skin. He held in his anger, however, in hopes of reconciling the situation. He wanted to woo the Queen, not push her away. It would make the future much easier.

"You must know the stories of my people and the tragic death of my family, milady." He looked at her, placing his eating utensils down. "They were murdered and it is the fault of the Elves and Men that this happened."

Arwen laughed; a bold move for one in her situation. "The fault of Elves and Men? And how do you figure that, wizard?"

Scowling, Graelath stood and paced, making Arwen a bit nervous even as she tried not to show it. "Because, dear Elven Queen, _your _people are the reason I was not there to save my family. The weakness of the Elves...their inability to save their own hides, left _me _without a mother, wife, daughter, and son!"

"And Men?" Arwen prompted.

For a few moments, Graelath did not answer. "Men are weak."

"So you have no reason to kill the world of Men then."

Graelath glared at her now, his black eyes trying to bore holes into her. "I have reason. Makir is my reason."

Arwen desperately racked her brain for where she had heard that name before. It was recently, but in all that had happened to her she was drawing a blank.

Seeing the confusion, Graelath growled in anger. "Makir, the wizard apprentice whose cowardice cost me my family; my people. He couldn't even do a simple spell to save them, he ran. Therefore the race of Men is weak. Surely you blame them as well, for Isildur was weak when he did not destroy the Ring of Power."

Arwen frowned. "I do not hate the race of Men, nor do I blame an entire race for the misdeeds of one. How can I hate a people that I am Queen of? My marriage to Elessar has bonded me to his people as truly as I am bonded to my own." She deliberately mentioned the fact that she was already wed, reminding the dark wizard that she would never truly be his, no matter what he did to her. But he seemed not to notice.

The wizard sat back down, eying the Queen. "The deeds of one can decide the fate of a race. Or many races. Take Cellnen, that poor, misguided Elf."

The Queen's interest was peaked now. She knew of Cellnen, but not nearly enough. "You killed him."

"Yes," Graelath said, settling back in his chair, and Arwen thought that, for a fleeting moment, she saw a hint of a smile. "We were once great friends. The closest of friends some would have said. But, that friendship fizzled and died when his weak race led to the downfall of my people. I would not remain friends with someone whose people I blamed for their death, I still blame for their death."

Arwen was intrigued, yet horrified at the same time. _They were best friends! What a horrible twist of fate! _"How could you kill your best friend in cold blood?"

"I, unlike Elves, am not weak. I did what had to be done to avenge my people, to keep my plans in motion. I had worked too hard to allow that Elf to destroy all my plans. He was only the first...I soon will have killed all the Elves in Middle-Earth so that this world is no longer plagued by their presence."

"Arda is not plagued by the presence of the Elves, but by _your _presence. You have no place here!" Arwen seethed, slamming her fork down on the table.

Graelath's eyes grew darker if that was possible. "You are right, I have no place. I am neither Elf nor Man. I have no people; I am alone. And I _hate _it." Turning to the Orc at the door, Graelath gestured toward the Queen. "Take her back to her room and lock her in."

Arwen was still looking at Graelath with her jaw on the floor. _So that is it then. He feels he has no place in this world and so he kills the races he wishes he was one of. Interesting. _

Following the Orc, Arwen actually found herself pitying the man. She too walked in between two worlds...knowing she was immortal now but would be human later, even if she would never truly belong to either, for she was already older than any human, and would be older yet before she passed beyond the circles of the world. But at least she would have a place among the peoples of Middle-Earth. Graelath had no such place.


	21. Into the Hands of Fate

**_Reviewer responses to Chapter 20: _**

**Deana**: Yep, that darned Elf is just too selfless for his own good. Sorry bout the delay...

**Moonyasha**: EEEK...I know...me and cliffies right? Well, I hope this makes up for it. It isn't TOO bad a cliffhanger...I don't think...all right, maybe.

**Karone Evertree**: Oh... sometimes I hate those author alerts...glad you are still reading! Yeh, he is so stubborn...he needs to be taught a lesson...I think I do that later.

**Alatariel Narmolanya**: HEHE...the flashbacks ARE evil, aren't they. Well, Legolas will have to deal with things when they come! He's not doing too badly yet...I do mean...YET...

**Lynn Lee/InsanePirate624**: Hi there...glad you like chapter 20...Your compliments are so flattering! Thanks so much for reviewing!

**Shadowfax2931**: Yeh, Legolas is stuck between a rock and hard place...no good choices. Nope, if Legolas dies...no more savior Elves...Lol...anyway...Read on...

**Barbara** **Kennedy**: Thanks for your review. I am glad that you are enjoying it. I don't know if you have reached chapter 20 yet, since you reviewed for chapter 1, but I hope you continue to read and see this note!

**Zammy**: Updating!

**Arayelle** Lynn: Legolas is acting purely Legolas-like...self-sacrificing.

**Mornflower**: I heard it was your BIRTHDAY...funny no one told ME! I hope you see this and you can take it as a probably belated birthday present from ME. Thanks for that little skit for chap 20...it was great!

**Crystalcave**: Thank you for reviewing the chapters as you read them! I really appreciate that! Glad you like the story! Hope you make it to chapter 20.

**Kelsey**: Yeh, we added more Graelath insight thinking he needed to be developed a bit more. Yeh, too bad Frodo didn't get a chance to chat with him...perhaps it would have helped. The witness...you hit it on the head! Here's a cookie! Your first guess...not the Oliphant

**Pirate Gyrl**: Well...glad you liked! I wouldn't do _that_, he will NOT die...he will NOT die...**_starts to realize she is being stupid and rambling_** Okay, enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter 21: _Into the Hands of Fate_**

_Aragorn's Company..._

Night had fallen. The watch was set up and Aragorn had seen to it that his brothers would both be watching Legolas this night. He himself had taken up the task for the entire day, never once letting the Elf out of his sight.

Settling himself down to sleep, he rested as peacefully as his worries would allow, drifting into a light sleep.

Seeing that a majority of the company was asleep, Legolas set his plan into motion, calling on Gweluthand to fulfill her part of the deception. Slowly, and to the notice of no one, a heavy grey mist settled on the camp.

Legolas, shielded from the mist by Gweluthand, watched as all in the camp nodded into a dreamless sleep. He was momentarily worried that he was leaving his friends in jeopardy in the event that something should attack them, but he wouldn't need them to be out too long.

Taking a deep breath, the Elf began to inch his way out of the camp, not entirely sure that the others were fully shrouded in sleep. As he crept past Elrond, the Elf Lord stirred and Legolas froze, holding his breath.

Sensing that there was a problem, Gweluthand intervened. The mist turned a deeper, darker shade of grey around Elrond and Galadriel. Gandalf, who happened to be sleeping between the two Elves, was also shrouded more deeply.

Gweluthand was shielding the Ringbearers more heavily then the others, knowing the power of their rings. Now even the power of the Elven Rings was not enough to keep their bearers awake.

Sighing in relief that Elrond had not woken, Legolas began to slowly move again.

This time, he was able to get to the outskirts of the encampment and he hurried off under the waning moonlight, running nimbly through the trees and leaving his companions far behind. Gweluthand, when Legolas assured her he was far enough away, released the company from their sleep. Slowly, a half hour after Legolas had left, Elladan rubbed his eyes.

His first action was to gasp as he saw his brother was also sleeping. "El? Oh this is not good! El! Wake up!"

Unfortunately, Elrohir was not the only one to hear his whispered plea. Aragorn sat bolt upright. "Legolas!" Jumping to his feet, he saw Arod in the midst of the other horses and relaxed. But his tension remounted when he saw no sign of Legolas.

His cry had awoken most of the others, who were also looking around for the Elf. Lord Elrond appeared at Aragorn's side. "It is as we feared; he has left us to go on ahead."

Rounding on his brothers, Aragorn was angry beyond words. "I left you both in charge of his watch! How could you have fallen asleep? Do you realize you might have just let him run off to his death?!"

"We didn't mean to fall asleep...I don't know what happened," Elladan said defensively, his voice full of concern and confusion.

"Didn't mean to? You didn't mean to? Elladan, this is exactly why we left people to watch him. So he wouldn't get away! So he wouldn't get himself killed. How could you both fall asleep on watch...not one of you...both of you!?"

Elrohir looked between his brothers. "Aragorn, we did not mean to fall asleep. I do not even know how we did. I, for one, was not tired."

"Yes," Aragorn huffed, his face red from his anger. "I'll bet...so wide awake that you fell asleep!" He would have gone on, but something stopped him.

Galadriel placed a hand on the angered man's shoulder. When he spun, fully intending to ream out whoever had touched him, his eyes widened and he shrank back. "Milady, I'm sorry, I did not see it was you."

She didn't acknowledge his apology, instead she looked about her. "Something lingers in the air," unsure of what exactly it was, the Elf locked eyes with Aragorn. "Legolas did not act alone."

As if the very air around them sensed something was amiss, Aragorn shivered. The clearing had suddenly gotten colder. Looking around him, the king knew what was wrong. "_Gweluthand_? Is that you? Is there a way you can communicate with us?"

To his great surprise, Aragorn heard a feminine voice in his head. _: You have great power in your blood, King of Gondor, son of Arathorn and heir of Isildur. I can speak to you. Why are you in such distress at the departure of Legolas? He only means to save your life. :_

Aragorn stiffened. _Save my life? But Gweluthand, Legolas can not beat Graelath on his own. Surely you remember what happened to Cellnen. It will befall him too; I can feel it in my heart. _

For a moment, the wind picked up and there was an eerie, quavering whistle to it. _: He will die? : _She paused for a moment, and then continued. _: I can not take back what is done, for I must do as the Silvan Elf asks. :_

Aragorn's brows furrowed. "Gweluthand can not disobey Legolas, but didn't she threaten to not help the Hobbits because of their disrespect?" He had spoken aloud this time, contemplating what the air shroud had told him.

Galadriel looked at him closely. "Perhaps you should direct that same thought at Gweluthand, Estel."

Nodding in agreement, the man did just that. _Gweluthand? How is it that you had to obey Legolas here, yet you said you would not shield the Hobbits when they were disrespectful in the Shire?_

For a moment, there was no answer. Then, she responded. _: I must do as the Silvan Elf commands. I was not happy with the way the Hobbits spoke and their disrespect irked me. But I would have had to comply with Legolas' wishes. I can, however, shield less heavily if I choose. :_

The man nodded, than relayed the information to the others, who looked thoughtful. So Gweluthand had to listen to Legolas, but she did not have to shield everyone equally. She had a little say in the matter, but very little.

Realizing they were wasting time and caring for her liege, Gweluthand urged Aragorn into action. _: Go swiftly; you may arrive not long after him. Pray you are not too late, he cannot fall, and he can only be reincarnated once. :_

If he had been less distraught, Aragorn might have picked up that last bit, however his thoughts were locked on breaking camp and hurrying after the reckless Elf. After relaying orders to gather the supplies and mount up, Aragorn muttered under his breath, "That Elf is going to be the death of me."

* * *

Legolas ran swiftly through the woods, drawing ever closer to the Misty Mountains, fervently hoping he had not caused the downfall of his friends by asking Gweluthand to put them into a deep sleep. _I mustn't let this distract me, _the Elf thought, shaking the worry from his head. _My friends are strong, they will not fall easily._

Feeling pain in his old wounds, Legolas had to slow his pace. But he knew that he had far outdistanced the others. They could not all run through the forest as uninhibited as the Wood-Elf could. Well, maybe some of them could, but not all together and with the Hobbits and Lowgala to think of. Not to mention some of them were wounded. No, Legolas need not worry they would catch up.

As he hurried along toward the Misty Mountains, his mind moved on to the next stage of his plan. The stage that, as of yet, he had not figured out. He had focused so hard on leaving his entourage behind that he had not yet devised what he was going to do when he reached Graelath's tower.

_Gweluthand, are you there? _It was a long shot, but perhaps he could ask the air shield for advice. After all, she had been with Cellnen when he had lived, surely there must be something she could offer him in knowledge.

There was a pause, but the air around him grew slightly colder and he heard her in his head. _: Yes. Why did you leave your friends? :_

Legolas was at a loss. Never before had the air shield really asked him a question. This was new. He had to wonder what had caused it. _I had to, Gweluthand. I have had dreams of late...dreams of Aragorn's death. I can not allow that to happen. Graelath plans more then to just control Aragorn through Arwen, he wants the Elven rings as well. _

The Elf knew that Gweluthand had heard him, but he was taken aback when she spoke next. _: I should not have helped you, young one. But, alas, I have not the power to deny the demands of the Silvan Elf who possesses the power to control me. :_

_Why should you have stopped me?_ The Elf asked, slowing to a halt and glancing around, wishing, for once, that Gweluthand had a physical form he could speak directly to. _I wish I could see you..._

Almost immediately, the air around the Elf began to shimmer, particles of silver reflecting in the wan light that penetrated the forest foliage. And right before his eyes, a form began to appear. It was in the shape of a woman, slender and tall. She was entirely made up of the shimmering particles, but looked nearly solid.

Legolas gasped and stepped back in surprise. Gweluthand was an Elf, or at least, took the shape of an Elf maiden, long, flowing hair and delicate features, with eyes that almost appeared iridescent, the color of every shade of blue imaginable.. And of course, pointed ears. "Why have you not taken shape before?"

The apparition laughed lightly. _: You have not asked, Legolas. : _

"Were you at one time an Elf?"he asked, unable to hide his curiosity, momentarily forgetting that he had an agenda.

Gweluthand shook her head. _: No. I have never been 'alive' as you would define the word. I take this form because it suits whom I am speaking to. Though I rarely do it, I can take any form I like. :_

Legolas nodded, but quickly got back to business. "You still have not answered, why should you have stopped me from leaving the others behind? I only wish to save the life of my best friend and hopefully his wife in the process."

For a moment, Gweluthand regarded Legolas carefully, her shining eyes sparkling with some unexplained emotion. _: Because, Aragorn told me you have not the power to defeat Graelath, as Cellnen himself did not. : _

A frown crossed Legolas' face and he sighed. "Yes, I knew he had something to do with this..." the prince muttered aloud.

Gweluthand moved closer, not actually stepping, but floating toward him on the air. He tried not to move back, instead gazing into her mesmerizing eyes. _: You have much to learn, young one. Including who you have inside you. Hear me now and take account. Cellnen died an ignorant death, a death that should have been prevented. Not by magic, or even Graelath's hand at all. Rather a servant of the wizard with a weapon akin to your own. :_

Having made her case, the air began to swirl and the seemingly solid form of the air shield fluttered away in the wind. Legolas stood rooted to the spot. He had not thought to find out how Cellnen died, but when he thought about it, it was a pertinent piece of information.

_Maybe I was a little hasty in my decision to go alone, but I must save Aragorn. I will take heed of your cautioning, Gweluthand, but I will go on. I only hope you will be with me to deal with Graelath. I will deal with all other threats alone. Please, can you relay a message to Aragorn?_

She acknowledged him gently. _: I should not, but I will. Taking a solid form drained me some; I will do this and leave you until you need me again. : _

Legolas bit his lip, choosing his words carefully. _Tell him this. I know how Cellnen died, I will be wary. He is my greatest friend and this world needs him, I will not stand by and see him die. And, Gweluthand...tell him I forgive him._

A short breeze picked up and Legolas knew his message was off. Somehow, he felt terribly alone.

_Perhaps this wasn't one of my brightest ideas_, the Elf thought to himself. Somehow, knowing that Cellnen had died because he had been alone and overconfident did not comfort Legolas.

Yes, he knew that he would have to watch out for that same scenario, but something was nagging in the back of his mind. Something was trying to tell him that maybe he needed his friends.

After all, Frodo had only been able to destroy the One Ring because of Gollum and Sam. _He wouldn't have been able to do it alone. What if this is the same sort of situation? What if I really can't do this on my own? Have I escaped them only to go to my death for it? To let down all of Middle-Earth because I thought I was doing the right thing?_

His thoughts continued to plague him as he headed onward toward Graelath's tower. Was he doing the right thing? Should he turn back now? Was he walking into a trap...to his death?

* * *

_Aragorn's Company... _

If Aragorn had been unwieldy before, he was impossible now. With his worry for both Arwen and Legolas, the king was inconsolable. Try as they might, Elladan and Elrohir could not break through his walls of anguish. He had asked them to forgive him for jumping at them after Legolas' disappearance but that was the last words he had spoken to anyone.

Elrond, riding beside Galadriel and Celeborn looked at his foster son with growing concern. He saw the twins' efforts, smiling wanly as they again tried to engage their little brother in conversation. It hurt his heart when they were shrugged away.

"Elrond, Aragorn will find his strength. You did not name him wrongly, he will find his hope," Galadriel gently laid a hand on the Elf Lord's arm. "It is difficult; Arwen is his wife and Legolas his best friend."

Just as she finished, Gandalf rode up to join them. "Pardon the intrusion, but do you not think it high time we took a short rest? Even if Aragorn does not see it, the men are tiring fast, even some of the elves are growing weary, they had little time to rest before setting out with us."

Elrond nodded. "I will speak to him." He urged his horse forward with a soft spoken word and soon gained on the forlorn human. "_Ion nin_?"

Aragorn slowed only slightly, acknowledging his foster father with a curt 'yes'. Frowning, Elrond drew himself up, refusing to give in to Aragorn's mood. "We must stop for a short respite. In your haste and grief you have neglected to see the plight of your warriors. Legolas can not have reached the tower even if he ran full speed since he left us."

He wondered if he had been wrong to mention the elf prince when he saw Aragorn's shoulders shudder. But then he caught the sniffle. Aragorn was weeping. Elrond, beside himself now, grabbed the king's reins and called loudly, "We will stop to rest and water the horses!"

Reining in Hasufel and his own mount, Elrond walked the horses a short distance from the main body, surprised that Aragorn wasn't fighting him. The man, for the most part sat in the saddle, hands lightly holding the saddle horn.

"Estel? Speak to me. You are beginning to frighten me, let out your feelings." Elrond dismounted, looking up into the tear-streaked face of the King of Gondor.

Looking down into his father's eyes, Aragorn slid from the horse, into the elf lord's waiting arms. He shuddered as sobs overtook him. Only when he had cried enough to leave a wet spot on Elrond's tunic did the man stop.

Pulling away, swiping at his eyes with a sleeve, the man stammered. "Forgive my weakness. I could not control myself, I will do better."

But Elrond stepped closer, clasping the man's shoulders. "Never be ashamed to cry in grief. You are in great pain, more so than any of us can comprehend. Since you were 20 years old, Legolas has been your best friend. You have come through many trying times together; I know you worry for his safety. And Arwen..." He wanted to say more, but found he had no voice when he tried to speak of his only daughter.

Aragorn, seeing the distress in the Elf's eyes, reached out and grabbed his father's shoulders now. "I know, you don't have to say anything, I know. We must hold onto hope. I must regain what little semblance of reason I had before."

The man risked a small smile and Elrond chuckled. "Yes, I seem to recall a time when you had _some_ reason in that thick head of yours."

Both composed themselves and then moved to join the others. As they rounded the horses, Aragorn froze. Elrond's eyes twinkled in question. But he saw a smile cross his son's face. "Ah, _mellon nin, _always protecting me."

Seeing the looks in Elrond's eyes, Aragorn grinned lightly. "Legolas sent a message with Gweluthand. He knows of Cellnen's downfall, perhaps all will be well in the end."

They joined the others and for the first time, Aragorn noticed that Thranduil seemed unusually...dim. All Elves had a natural glow to them and it was only in times of great sorrow or great injury that their light dimmed. If it went out...they died.

Seeing the King of Eryn Lasgalen, sitting forlornly as far from the others as he could manage without seeming to be avoiding anyone, Aragorn realized how perilously close to losing it the Elf was.

Without drawing attention, Aragorn managed to extricate himself from the main group of travelers and he approached the king, wary that perhaps his intrusion would be resented.

When he managed to reach the Elf's side without Thranduil looking up, he knew something was very wrong. _Of course something is very wrong, _he thought to himself. _His only relative on Middle-Earth, his only son, has gone off on a suicide mission to save, of all things, a man. Thranduil was never fond of men...this isn't helping matters. _

"_Hir nin_ My lord?" Aragorn lightly called out for the Elf, not wanting to startle him. Thranduil's gaze traveled from the ground in front of him, to Aragorn's chest, but he couldn't meet his eyes.

"Yes, Aragorn?"

He could hear a tremor in the voice. Uncertain of the cause of the tremor, he decided to tread lightly. "I was worried about you, _hir nin_. How this must be affecting you...you are surely distraught with worry and it is causing your light to dim."

Realizing that the direct approach might be the only way to get through to the King, Aragorn held his breath and waited for the response.

"_Iston, _I know" came the reply, whispered, but audible.

Thinking that Thranduil was ready to confide in someone, Aragorn sat down. He didn't notice that Thranduil still could not meet his gaze.

"Do you wish to speak of it?" the man continued, blissfully unaware of Thranduil's true feelings on the matter. At least for the moment.

"Not with you," the Elf replied, shifting uncomfortably. "Please, do not remain sitting here; you will not like what I have to say."

But Aragorn did not move. "Even if I do not like what you must say, I feel you must say it. So please, tell me what is troubling you."

And tell him Thranduil did.

Finally locking eyes with Aragorn, the King paused, giving the man time to see what was about to come. There was anger in Thranduil's eyes. Anger directed at Aragorn. Before Aragorn could react to this, the elf king spoke, his words clipped as he tried to maintain a reasonable tone of voice.

"My son is out there on this...this...mission to save you, King of Gondor, and I despise you for it. He is my only son, my only relative still on these shores, he is my life, and I have never told him thus. Now I may never have a chance to tell him, he may go to Mandos' Halls and I will never be able to tell him all that I have wished to since this began. All because of his undying love for you, a human, a love that I can not fathom nor comprehend. I despise you for what you have done to me...for what you may make me lose."

For a moment, Aragorn was speechless. He had expected anger from the King, but he had never expected this much, nor that it was directed solely at him. "Forgive me, Thranduil, but I think that your anger is somewhat misplaced. Yes it is my fault he is gone, Legolas loves me like a brother and will not leave me to a fate of death. That is his reason for going. However, it is also his own fault, for going on alone despite the misgivings we all have about the outcome. And it is also the fault of Gweluthand for helping him."

He hadn't really meant to vent like that, but he had and now he had to face the consequences. Namely, an irate Elf King. "You mean to blame my son for this? When he is out there risking his life to save your precious neck, King of Gondor? How could you blame him for that? Are you so selfish that you think he is right in doing this?" Thranduil's voice was beginning to rise despite his efforts to keep their conversation from the rest of the party.

That set off Aragorn's rarely seen, but not insignificant, temper. "Have you not seen how distraught I have been, Thranduil? Did you not see me blow up at my own brothers for letting him get away? Did you not hear nor see my _tears_ as we finally stopped for this rest? I can not fathom a father losing a son, as I have no children, but I can fathom a husband who may lose a wife and best friend all because of _ME_. And even more than that, if Arwen is lost, my unborn child will also be lost. You don't know what that does to someone... the guilt I feel is tearing me apart inside and there is nothing I can do about it! I wish that Legolas had not gone, that he had not had the visions he must have had, that he had left me to my fate, even if it meant I would die!"

Thranduil was silent. Contemplating. Then, he looked up and in his eyes Aragorn saw only remorse and regret. "I am sorry for my words, Aragorn. I was letting my grief speak for me. I should not allow my ages' old dislike of the human race to taint what friendship I have with you, the best friend of my son. You are not your ancestors and you have been a great friend to Legolas. I did not take into account how you too are suffering. Please forgive my harsh words."

Aragorn, calmed slightly, but could not answer right away. His mind was still reeling with what he had just confessed. But, in a way, he was glad that the tirade had come out because he felt better with this knowledge of his feelings out in the open. "I forgive you, Thranduil. None of us are in our right minds. Let us change the subject; perhaps you can relay that tale of Legolas in the spider web for me."

"Ah yes, that I can do!" Thranduil laughed, than launched into the tale.

* * *

Across the camp, Gimli and the Hobbits had been watching the faces of Aragorn and Thranduil with some trepidation. Now, they let out sighs of relief.

"I thought they were about to unsheath their swords and begin to fight," Gimli grumbled. He didn't much like Legolas' father, he found the Elf King hardheaded and overly judgmental. _Could be he just dislikes dwarves and I see the brunt of it, _he thought for a moment, but quickly decided it was likely just the way the Elf was.

"Do you think Legolas will be all right?" Pippin asked from the fireside where he was munching a bit of _lembas _bread. "I know he is a strong warrior and all, he escaped the War of the Ring without a wound, but he is alone."

Merry looked at his cousin, but did not respond. Nor did Gimli. Finally, it was Frodo who spoke up. "Legolas _is_ strong, Pip. If I was able to cast the Ring in the fires of Mount Doom with only the help of dear Sam here, I am certain Legolas, a finer warrior than I, will be all right."

His words were strong and soothing to the others. But Frodo, in his heart, did not heed his own sentiments. He was worried about Legolas. Worried far more then he would let on. Sam, he knew, would see right through his false façade of hope.

Gimli was eying the curly-haired Hobbit as he smoked his pipe. He too seemed to notice that the encouragement Frodo had given was only to ease the worries of his younger friend.

Pippin, for the most part, seemed to believe Frodo and relaxed a bit. "Do you think he has a plan?"

Gimli grunted at that. "That Elf _never_ has a plan. I remember when we were traveling Middle-Earth together, seeing the sites, and it was his turn to lead, he had no direction in mind, just began to wander toward trees. I don't think he had a plan, but he doesn't need one. It's best to go with what is thrown your way then to have a set plan that might backfire on you."

The Hobbits were nodding in agreement with Gimli's sentiments. He did have a point. They were about to continue their conversation when there was a loud snorting laugh from Thranduil and Aragorn's location.

Exchanging glances, they too chuckled. "Must have gotten to the part with Legolas hanging upside down from that spider's nest, cursing in dwarfish of all languages!" Gimli laughed.

As much as he still didn't like Elves, he was really worried for Legolas. That one, he would always call a friend, and a brother-in-arms.

* * *

Legolas kept low, shimmying across the rough face of the cliff toward the edge where he caught his first glimpse of a dark tower tucked against the mountainside. He was at a loss for how this fortress could go unnoticed for so long. But looking down, he saw the ground was covered in a thick layer of fog.

_No wonder they call these the 'Misty Mountains'_, the Elf snickered to himself. _You could walk right past it and never know. If Graelath hadn't been speaking when Lowgala passed..._ He stopped that train of thought. That was not going to happen now that Legolas and the others knew where this tower was. They would rid the world of this wizard, one way or another.

Pushing himself backward when he realized he would see nothing from this vantage point, Legolas waited until he was sure that no one in the tower could see him before he stood again. Checking his weapons, finding them securely attached to his back, he continued toward the fortress.

A cool breeze streaked to his side and he smiled lightly, somehow knowing without asking that Gweluthand was with him. It warmed his heart knowing he would not be going into battle entirely alone. He only hoped he would not meet an end here because an air shield was one thing; his friends were another. He did not want to die alone.

The mist thickened with every step he took toward the tower, making it difficult even for an Elf to see where he was going. It wouldn't surprise him if this mist was unnatural. It felt wrong, not necessarily evil, but out of place. There was not reason for it to be so heavy; no reason besides providing cover for Graelath's tower.

He hadn't realized he had been walking so fast, but when a dark hulk began to materialize out of the mist, Legolas' step faltered. Now that he was here, he had no idea how he planned to rescue Arwen and defeat Graelath. He doubted the tower was unguarded so he couldn't just waltz in there.

_I'll have to surrender myself. Surely Graelath will want to see me, he won't just order me killed; he seems too full of himself for that._ Legolas hated to do it, hated to be in captivity after all the times he and Aragorn had the misfortune of falling into enemy hands, but he could think of no other alternative.

_: Be careful, young one; that is what Cellnen did. : _

Legolas sighed deeply, hearing the warning. _Thank you, Gweluthand, but unless you have a better idea..._

When he received no answer, Legolas took another step toward the tower, knowing that once he was spotted there was no turning back. This was it; any further and he was committed.

And he took another step forward.

* * *

_Graelath's Fortress... _

"You should eat, Queen Arwen. You only endanger the life of your unborn child the longer you refuse nourishment," Graelath stood in the door to Arwen's tower prison. In his right hand he held a bowl of stew, in the other a glass of water. "I promise the Orcs have not touched it. I do not have time to for a formal, sit-down meal with you at the moment. I have preparations to make. And I'm fairly certain your dear Aragorn would be most upset if you died of starvation before he got here."

Arwen's head snapped up at that. _Aragorn?_ Coming here...was it true? Figuring she had nothing to lose, Arwen spoke. "How do you know he is coming, Estel is not one to walk into a trap."

Graelath laughed. "No, perhaps not, but he is doing it. He cares so much for you and no doubt your father does as well. Surely they would not leave you to torment here, love can make people do the most unwise things."

_Father? Then he is alive!_ Hearing that Elrond lived warmed her heart. She could only assume that the twins had found the Elf Lord. All hope was not lost if they were coming to her aide. She didn't know if Graelath knew these things for certain or if he was only guessing, but she needed some hope in this dismal place.

Reaching forward tentatively, she accepted the food. It was breakfast time and she was rather hungry. There was no way of knowing whether or not it was drugged or poisoned, she knew that she had likely angered the wizard with her outburst at the end of their last meal. But her pregnancy made her need more sustenance then normal and her strength was nearly gone as it was.

The darkness was taking its toll on the Evenstar. She could feel it encroaching on her...feel it begin to take its hold on her and drain her of strength. She wasn't even sure the food would be enough.

Graelath watched as she ate, smiling lightly. He was about to speak again when an Orc crept up behind him and 'ahem'd'. "My Lord, we have caught an Elf."

Hearing him, Arwen's eyes widened and she looked up in terror. _Who did they catch?_


	22. Fateful Meeting

**_Reviewer responses for Chapter 21: _**

**Arayelle Lynn**: LOL...yeh, good point. Legolas can't do this alone, now can he? Starts muttering to self, Well he IS rather strong, talented, hmm...maybe he can...no...well...LOL. Yep...seems like I'm not telling.

**Karone Evertree**: Lol thanks. Hope he DOESN'T repeat that mistake!

**Zammy**, **Deana**: You guys are great...I am sorry this took so long. Been really busy and need to make sure I don't do this long wait thingy again!

**InsanePirate624**: Hey...where'd your story go!? You need to update too...like I'm doing! LOL. I look forward to hearing what you think of THIS chapter too!

**Kelsey**: ROTFLMAO!! Your predications were hilarious...the flying oliphaunt one in particular. Element of surprise...well...guess not! LOL. He isn't EXACTLY reincarnated...I mean, it's not like Legolas IS Cellnen...just has parts of him...i.e. his magic ability...Doesn't look like him though.

**Alatariel Narmolanya**: Grinning author here...yup I like Cliffies...helps keep the suspense up. Glad you liked...

**Moonyasha**, **Pirate Gyrl**: Hey there! Thanks for reviewing...sorry the update took so long...ugh...real life in the way AGAIN.

**Mornflower**: Poor Morn...not in the mood for skits. I hope you feel all right...but by now you probably do. This took a while for me and Phoenixqueen to get up on the site. Glad you liked.

**Shadowfax2931**: Cliffie should be my middle name. I love them. Just not reading them!

**KeshieShimmer**: Welcome to the world of...my fic! Glad you like it so far!! Thanks so much for dropping a review!

**Crystalcave**: You caught up!!! YAY! Grins...glad you threw in so many reviews as you went. I really appreciate it! Thank you thank you thank you!

**The-Burglar**: Hey...thanks for reviewing! Nice to...uh...meet you! I hope this is soon enough an update. This is LONGER then I've ever taken... Glad you enjoyed...and yes that was a cliffie!! I love cliffies!

**A/N: Hello everyone...I just want to apologize for the LONG wait between the last post and this one. Unfortunately, life has a tendency to get in the way of LotR stories! I will try not to let such a long period of time elapse between posts again, but it is not always so easy! I hope I haven't lost any of my precious reviewers, and I wish to welcome some new people to the review page: the-burglar, crystalcave (who has caught up!), KeshieShimmer, and anyone I may have forgotten. Please forgive us for the long wait and take this chapter as an offering of peace!! LOL. –_Gwenneth_**

**B/N (Beta's note): "sighs" Has it really been over two weeks since the last update? Wow...it seems longer. I guess that's what being buried under a mountain-load of college work can do to you. Well, now that Gwenneth and I are able to talk again (we had a long silence during those two weeks) hopefully we won't keep you fabulous readers waiting much longer. I am as appreciative of the reviews as Gwenneth, and I get as much of a kick out of them as she does. Both of us have invested a great deal of time in making this fic into a wonderful story to keep all of you guessing and wondering and on the edge, so it's nice to see that effort rewarded. Both of us will be doing everything in our power to get the next chapter up ASAP! -_phoenixqueen_**

* * *

**Chapter 22: _Fateful Meeting_**

_Graelath's Tower..._

Legolas could make out a doorway now and the Uruk-hai guarding it. Being an Elf, he knew his steps were too silent to be heard by the creature. So he cleared his throat. Startled, the Uruk-hai surged forward, blindly searching for the source of the sound.

He nearly ran right into the Elf.

"What...what is an Elf doing so far from home?" The Uruk-hai trained his crossbow on Legolas, the arrow tip touching the Elf's chest above his heart. "Don't do anything stupid, Elf. Keep your hands where I can see them." As he prodded the Elf forward into the dark tower, he called to a nearby Orc and sent him off to find the Master. "Just wait, Elf, our Master doesn't like your kind. Why do you think he killed your people first?" The Uruk pushed harder with his arrow tip, drawing blood from Legolas' back.

To his credit, the prince did not waiver or show signs of pain. It was nothing compared to what could be done to him. He cringed, memories of past pains coming to the surface for a moment before he was able to quell them.

"I am sure he will be expressly glad to see me," Legolas spat out, surprised by the strength in his words. He was petrified inside, but he sounded unaffected by his plight.

The tone of his voice on enraged the Uruk-hai more and he shoved the Elf forward into a poorly lit hall... the hall from the prince's dreams. He faltered, giving the Uruk just the chance he needed to propel the Elf to his knees, where he kept Legolas by pointing the arrow at his heart once again.

Aside from chairs and a table, not much else resided in this room. Legolas couldn't begin to imagine what sort of being could live in such a place. He didn't need to wonder for long. From a side passageway, he heard a scuffle of feet and a light, yet heartfelt, elvish curse. _Arwen! She is alive!_

A small smile curved his lips, but he wiped it away quickly. It wouldn't do to be too cocky just yet. He had to convince this wizard to take him instead of Arwen. Little did he know that Graelath didn't hold the Queen just as ransom.

He saw a faint light before he actually saw the Queen. She was thrust rather roughly into the room, but she was completely unbound, which was a relief to the prince. Her eyes quickly latched on the still being kneeling at the feet of the Uruk, light emanating from his body.

"Legolas!" She cried, fear rising when she realized who had been caught. As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she regretted it. Now Graelath knew he hadn't just caught some wayward Elf.

"Ah, so you know this intruder." From the shadows behind Arwen, a man emerged. His red hair stood out against the black interior of the hall and the black clothing he wore. The man wasn't old; on the contrary he looked rather young. At first glance, Legolas wouldn't have thought this to be the wizard of the First Age; he looked barely older then Legolas and Arwen.

But as he approached, Legolas saw for the first time the man's eyes. Cold, black and lifeless; showing his millennia of suffering. At that moment, Legolas felt fear, the stab of cold running through his chest. This man would have no mercy on any living soul.

"Who are you, Legolas? Why have you come here? Obviously you know the Queen and she you...but just how well?" Graelath stepped toward the Elf on the ground, his staff lightly gripped in his right hand.

Motioning to the Uruk to let the Elf stand, Graelath waited until Legolas was eye level. The Elf made no move to explain who he was and this angered Graelath. He could see defiance in those bright blue eyes. Defiance was something he did not tolerate in his captives.

"Who is he, my dear?" The wizard directed the question to Arwen, who sent Legolas an uncertain look. Legolas nodded imperceptibly, telling her it would be wise to answer the wizard to avoid provoking his wrath.

Arwen faced the wizard. "He is a friend. Why should I not know him? There are not that many of my people left on these shores, as you well know, and he and I are nearly the same age. If you must know, he is a friend from..." she hesitated for a moment, then made her decision. "He is from Lothlorien. He was visiting Minas Tirith when we received word of your attack on my people."

Graelath frowned. He had no reason to disbelieve the Queen, but it didn't explain why this new elf was here.

Then Legolas spoke, lightly. "I have come to offer myself in exchange for the Queen. I trust I'd be far more interesting to you then she."

Arwen gasped. "Legolas, no!"

The prince sent a warning look at her, not wanting her to give the wizard any reason to refuse his offer. She saw the determination in his bright blue eyes, as well as the deeply hidden fear from old memories of previous captivities, and swallowed back any further protest, knowing that he was doing this for her...and for Aragorn. She allowed herself to hope that this might even be part of the rescue attempt, for it would be much easier for Aragorn to rescue the prince than her, as Legolas would be much more capable of taking care of himself.

For a moment, the wizard studied his prey. "You trust that, do you? I'm not so sure, what do you have to offer me that would make me consider getting rid of such a beautiful creature." He reached out to stroke Arwen's cheek, but she would have nothing of the sort and pulled away.

Legolas took a breath, not liking this situation one bit. Perhaps this was a mistake; Graelath seemed to have a strong interest in Arwen. And now he was every bit the prisoner either way. _Why do I have to be so damn loyal?...my loyalty is going to get me killed one of these days._ "I am a friend of Elessar as well, a dear friend, one that he wouldn't hesitate to come after if he knew that I am being held here." Legolas finally answered, choosing to lead the wizard on a bit longer and not reveal his secret yet, hoping to avert the same fate that had befallen Cellnen.

Graelath's eyes narrowed. "And you seem to think that he won't come after his Queen?" The wizard laughed. "I find it hard to believe that he would place the life of his friend at more value than that of his wife."

Legolas was quiet for a moment. "He would come...but he would also bring heavy reinforcements, and you would not stand a chance at defeating him, his ire would be so great. If I am your prisoner, it is more likely that he will come alone. The Queen is a liability to you and will be your downfall...but I guess that you think yourself so arrogant that you could defeat the strength of the armies of the Reunified Kingdoms."

Graelath glared at the elf for the insult. "Be wary of who you are speaking to, elf."

Legolas laughed scornfully. "Why? You are not worthy of being feared. You are like Sauron, only with greater ambition and less strength. Besides, there is still someone out there who can counter your magic and make your downfall even more certain. It is your choice when you wish to meet that downfall, sooner or later. Keeping the Queen will only hasten your defeat; I swear that to be true by the Valar."

Graelath glowered. "Elessar cannot defeat me...and if you know who this elf is that can supposedly defeat me; you'd best tell me now, my young friend."

Legolas didn't respond to the threat. "Take me in exchange for the Queen and you may live longer, though your defeat is already certain. I am the better hostage in the end."

The wizard laughed. "That is where you are wrong." Turning away from Legolas, he strode across the hall, and then turned back, casting a withering look at the Elf. "I fully intend to raise that child as my own, to keep her as _my_ Queen when I have taken over all of Middle-Earth. What can you possibly offer me that is greater then that?"

Legolas' heart froze. He now realized there was no way that Graelath would let Arwen go and keep him. He knew now that he was doomed...unless Aragorn and the rest of the rescue party could catch up to him and somehow free him.

Graelath stepped closer to the elf, and seemed to see the fear that the prince was trying so desperately to hide, even as it clutched at his soul. The wizard reached out and grasped the prince's chin, chuckling to himself. "I can see that despite your brave words and foolish sacrifice, you fear me, elf."

Legolas glowered and pulled his chin free with a jerk, his eyes blazing. "I do not fear you, wizard. I fear for the Queen, nothing more."

His strong words seemed to amuse the wizard, who stepped back. He was unsure why he said it, but for some reason, it had a desirous affect on the wizard, who simply laughed. "Perhaps I will not kill you outright; you may be a fun toy. I would like to see what it would take to break you, elf. I will allow you to keep the Queen company in her tower, though not unhindered."

Motioning to the Uruk to bring the prisoner, Graelath led the two Elves back toward the North Tower where Arwen had been kept since her arrival. Pushing her in first, Graelath watched with gleeful eyes as Legolas was half-led, half-dragged into the room. He had already been stripped of his weapons and now being held securely by two Uruk guards.

Graelath glanced around the lush room, realizing there was nowhere to place the Elf so that he wouldn't be able to escape. Turning, he called a nearby Orc to his side. "Merkeg, go fetch irons and a wall hook."

The Orc turned to leave.

"And Merkeg? Do remember to bring a hammer as well."

Graelath smiled smugly at the slight, always pleased to insult someone, even if it was a lowly Orc. He turned back toward Legolas and Arwen. He smiled to the latter. "My dear, I do hope you do not mind the company. I thought to throw him in the dungeons, but seeing as you are friends I reconsidered. Mayhap you would like to catch up with each other and you know I aim to please you."

Arwen wrinkled her nose in disgust, but said nothing. She didn't want to bring down Graelath's wrath. Legolas glanced between the two, a look of loathing clearly apparent on his own face.

To his surprise, Graelath chose to ignore it for the time being. "What is taking that Orc scum so long?" he muttered, pacing the room. He looked back up now. "I still don't know why you are here, Elf. Your story just doesn't seem to hold up. But mark my words I will get the truth out of you."

He grinned coyly at Arwen again. This time, she couldn't help her tongue. "Stop looking at me like that! You think by allowing my friend to stay here you will make me forget that you plan to beat and torture him! I think not, Graelath. What do you take me for?"

The smile left the wizard's face and he took quick steps forward until he was nose to nose, or rather chin to forehead, with Arwen. Looking down, he grabbed her chin and drew it upward so she was looking him in the face.

"You will not forget it. You will witness his torture; you will see what your insolence gets you. You will be my Queen, Lady, and you will in time learn to like it."

Just then the Orc returned to the room, irons, hook and hammer in hand. Graelath thrust his finger toward the nearby stone wall. "Hammer that hook in there securely. I don't want him pulling it free. Looks can be deceiving and though he looks harmless, I doubt he is."

The Orc went about hammering, the loud metal on metal clanging ringing in the sensitive ears of the Elves. Arwen went so far as to cover hers, Legolas didn't have that luxury. The metal hook began by just sending a shower of sparks down toward the ground, but finally it began to imbed itself in the wall.

Graelath tugged on it, satisfied it was secure, then gestured for the Uruks to bring Legolas forward. He was quickly locked into chains, which were then locked onto the newly embedded hook which effectively held his arms to the wall behind him, making him unable to even sit if he grew tired.

Graelath motioned the Uruk away, moving close to the prince's face, his hot breath on the Elf's face. "You will scream in pain my friend, I will enjoy doing it," the words were whispered, but the wizard knew Legolas heard them. To his surprise, the Elf didn't appear deterred. "Ah, so you have known the bit of a whip, the touch of a cold blade? No matter, I have ways of torture that are yet unimaginable."

He strode from the room now, leaving the two Elves alone. As soon as he was gone, Arwen rushed to Legolas, grabbing him into a hug and sobbing into his tunic. "I am so sorry, it is all my fault you here, chained like this, I'm so sorry!"

Legolas, momentarily taken back by the Queen's actions, quietly whispered to her, "You are not to blame, Arwen. I came of my own free will, I love you like a sister and could not bear to have you hurt by that wizard."

Arwen pulled back now. "Where are the others?" she asked as she examined the chains that bound her friend to the wall. Her movements stopped when Legolas looked away. "Legolas? You are not alone, are you?"

He took a deep breath before meeting her worried gaze. "Yes, I had to. I had dreams, visions, of Estel's death. If I had not altered the path we were on, he would have arrived with me and died. At least now, I know that fate has changed, hopefully been averted."

The Queen's eyes softened. "You always were one to sacrifice yourself, Legolas. And I can not count how many times it was a sacrifice for Estel. I wish you hadn't allowed yourself to be taken, I can not bear the thought of that wizard torturing you."

A small smile crossed the Elf's face. "Arwen, he can hurt my body all he wants, he'll never break me. I care not what happens to me, Gondor needs her King and Queen, I have no kingdom to go back to; if I am lost it is of little consequence."

Arwen smacked his arm. "That is where you are wrong, young prince. If you were lost, Aragorn and I would be as well, I don't think he could live with your death hanging over him, nor could I. And what of your friends in the Fellowship, or the Elves you left in Ithilien? Surely you will be sorely missed if you were to fall here." She hesitated. "And I, for one, fully intend on having you around to be our child's uncle."

Legolas looked up, tears glistening in his eyes. "All right then. Some would miss me. But I knew not what else to do. So desperate was I to save Estel from his fate that I did not think a moment for my own."

He swallowed the lump in his throat. "Did they hurt you in any way? What has happened since you were taken?" Legolas listened intently to all that Arwen relayed, for the first time since he had left his companions, hoping that they caught up with him soon.

He knew now that he could not do this alone.

* * *

_Aragorn's Company... _

The closer they got to the mountains, the heavier the mist became until finally they had to dismount for fear the horses would stumble and throw their riders. The ground was uneven, people stumbled now and then; even the Elves were having some difficulty.

"This mist does not seem natural," Galadriel commented, putting a hand on Gimli's shoulder to steady the dwarf when he tripped on a tree root and hissed in pain when his wound was severely jarred. Her comment drew the companions and their posse to a halt. "Magic is in the air."

Aragorn looked around, his eyes meeting nothing other then mist. It was unnerving, someone could be five feet from him and he wouldn't be able to see them. Elrond appeared at his right shoulder, his eyes narrow. "Yes, I feel it also. Perhaps I could be of assistance; it seems to be a spell of the air."

Gandalf approached now too. "It might give away our position. Do we want to risk Graelath knowing we are coming?"

Aragorn interjected here. "Undoubtedly he already knows. Legolas has reached the tower and been taken captive, Graelath isn't stupid and he will realize that the prince's companions would not be far behind."

An unspoken agreement was made and Elrond moved forward into the mist. Fingering the delicate ring on his hand, the Elf Lord began to speak, flowing elvish words breaking the eerie silence.

As he spoke, the wind picked up slightly, whipping around the legs of those assembled. They watched in awe as the breeze lifted the mist layer above their heads, making it easier to see. There were gasps of surprise when they realized just how close they were to the tower.

It was clearly visible, though still about an hour's walk from where they stood. Still, being this close meant they would surely meet up with border guards of some kind. Unless Graelath was too proud to think he needed them.

"We are nearly there, everyone be on your guard," Aragorn muttered. "This doesn't feel right somehow. There are not nearly enough guards."

Falling into step behind the King, Frodo and Sam glanced at one another. They had been inside a Dark Tower before, barely escaping with their lives during the War of the Ring. Neither was very keen to do it again, but they knew how much orcs hated Elves and they did not want Legolas and Arwen to suffer alone.

Picking up the pace, they hurried along toward the tower.


	23. Crime and Punishment

**_Reviewer responses for Chapter 22_**:

**Deana: **Almost to where I left off. I'm thrilled that you have stayed with me through all the revisions and I wanted to let you know how much I appreciate it!!

**Karone Evertree: **LOL...no way NEAR scotch free. Read on!

**Moonyasha: **Thank you...glad you thought the chapter was good. Sorry for this wait!

**Shadowfax2931, Zammy: **Glad you liked it! UPDATE comin' at ya!

**Mornflower: **ROTFLMAO, Your review was hilarious! Thanks for it! Hope you enjoy this chappie too!

**Insanechildfanfic: **Thanks for your review! Every little encouragement counts!

**Alatariel Narmolanya: **Thank you...sorry to hear about the virus...Here you go...update...

**The-burglar: **Yes, me and cliffies. Always doing that...hehe. Hey, don't worry about the reviewing thing. You have reviewed a few times already and I greatly appreciate it! Thanks so much!

**A/N: Again, apology in order for the long wait, but RL is hectic with elections approaching. Hopefully after Nov. 2, I will be able to get online with Phoenixqueen more often and update more often!!! Enjoy!**

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**Chapter 23:_ Crime and Punishment_**

_North Tower..._

Legolas tugged half-heartedly at the restraints around his wrists as his shoulders began to cramp. He grumbled under his breath when all he managed to do was make matters worse by rubbing his wrists raw.

Arwen, seeing him struggle, came quickly. "Legolas you mustn't move so much, you are hurting yourself more." She reached up, gently moving his right arm so she could see his wrist. The skin was red and chafed. If the Elf kept moving they would soon start to bleed.

Exasperated, Legolas smacked his head against the stone wall behind him. "I just wish I could move more, my muscles are starting to cramp up and there isn't a thing I can do about it!"

The Queen was about to comment when the door to the room was thrown open and two, large Orcs entered the room, followed closely by Graelath himself. "Ah, so I see you haven't gotten much rest, Elf. Wonder why that is." He laughed lightly, taking in the frustrated Elf and the Queen at his side.

"Isn't it sweet that the lady would see fit to try to ease your discomfort? But I fear I have to take her away for a time." He turned to Arwen, extending his hand in imitation of a nobleman, such as the ones of Aragorn's court. "Would you join me for dinner, Milady?" he said, bowing his head lightly.

But Arwen was having none of it, her anger at the wizard's treatment of Legolas getting the better of her. "Do you honestly believe acting noble will make me swoon to your every desire? If you do, you are greatly mistaken. Your false show of chivalry cannot hide your true colors, Graelath. I'm not hungry and would prefer to remain with Legolas."

To her great surprise, Graelath lashed out, slapping her hard across the face, knocking her to the bed which luckily broke her fall. She vaguely heard Legolas shout some rather nasty Dwarvish curses he'd learned from Gimli.

Reaching up, she lightly touched her cheek, wincing at the pain. Then, she looked up. Legolas wasn't finished with his tirade and his harsh tone had caught Graelath's attention.

"I used to know Elvish, but I have long since forgotten it, what did you say to me?" He said; his voice dangerously low.

Legolas, still quite angered by Graelath's actions and without a thought for the consequences of his words, spat back at him. "If you were even remotely intelligent and had learned anything in your great many years, you would have known those were Dwarvish curses, not Elvish, for the Elven tongue is beautiful and flowing, like a graceful song. But you know nothing of grace or tact."

Graelath's eyes narrowed more, if that were possible, and his face fairly fumed with fury. "You dare to speak to me in such an insolent tone when it is you who are chained to this wall. You both need a lesson in obedience!"

Graelath motioned to the Orcs who had accompanied him into the room. They quickly detached the end of the chains from the wall, though Legolas' wrists were still bound.

Legolas' eyes flashed with anger, but he dared not speak. It would only make the torture worse. His gaze fell on Arwen, who looked ready to say something in his defense. He vehemently shook his head in warning and her eyes lowered.

The exchange was not lost on Graelath. "Oh, yes, this is going to be quite fun. Let's see if you are as strong as you look, Elf." Turning to someone just outside the doorway, Graelath added. "Bring the Queen; I don't want her to miss out on this, she needs to be shown I mean business in all that I do."

The two Orcs who held Legolas' chains pulled suddenly, nearly knocking him down in the process. Their jubilant taunts only further enraged the Elf and he sneered at them, not caring if they saw fit to punish him for it.

The creature on his right backhanded him, sending him careening into the wall. "Don't be smart with me, Elf."

Graelath turned on them, his eyes blazing. "Lay another hand on that Elf, Moroch, and you will answer to me. He is mine to break."

Moroch grumbled, "Yes, Master."

Legolas frowned. The last thing he needed was an Orc he had gotten into trouble at the other end of a whip or some other nasty implement of torture. H_e might be trouble later especially since I just got him in trouble with Graelath, I had better be careful around him. _He was jostled from his thoughts when he was thrust into a well-lit room.

Taking a moment to get used to the difference in lighting, Legolas slowly opened his eyes, blinking rapidly. When he had opened them, he wished he had kept them closed. Graelath had led them to what seemed to be none other then a torture chamber.

The walls were lined with whips, each with a different implement at the end. Whether it was simple leather or chains with spikes on the end, each whip looked extremely painful. In the middle of the room was a chair, equipped with many straps and a table, decked out with similar restraints. Legolas was led to neither.

Instead, he was forced back against a wall, his arms above his head, and again fastened tightly to the wall. He had even less maneuverability this time; his arms were stretched over his head as far as they would go, making his muscles scream with the strain almost immediately.

This time, the Orcs stooped and clamped irons on his ankles well. _Guess he doesn't want me kicking then, _Legolas thought dryly. His eyes moved around the room, watching as Arwen was seated in a chair but not bound to it. _At least he has no intention of harming Arwen. _

His gaze focused on Graelath as the wizard stalked towards him, hands folded in the arms of his billowing cloak. With a nod of his head, he sent the two Orcs out of the room. "Guard the door; make certain we are not disturbed."

As soon as they were gone, Graelath came and stood inches from Legolas, looking him up and down appraisingly. "You look me in the eyes now, Elf, but soon you will not dare to do so." The wizard grinning lightly, pulling his arms from his cloak now, a dagger in his right hand.

With a menacing smile, he slid the blade of the knife under the ties of Legolas' tunic, than stopped. "Maybe I ought to leave these on, it makes cleaning the wounds so much more painful. But then, I wouldn't be able to watch the blood spill from you...choices, choices..."

Turning to Arwen, he said. "Which do you prefer, Queen Arwen, tunic on or off?"

Momentarily surprised that she was being asked this question, Arwen hesitated. She looked to Legolas for guidance, but he could not help her here. She looked into his eyes, decided he would suffer enough and said strongly, "I would prefer off if you must know."

Graelath frowned at Arwen but to Legolas' surprise, he did as she bid. Sliding the blade under the ties again, he sliced through them, allowing the tunic to fall open, exposing the Elf's bare skin.

Arwen's breath caught in her throat. Very few Elves scarred, but Legolas seemed to still bear reminders of the sword wound he had gotten in Eryn Lasgalen. Graelath followed her gaze. "Hmm...I thought the healing ability of the Elves left them with no scars. This is odd." Looking into Legolas' eyes, he asked, "Where did you get it?"

The Elf made no move to answer. He wouldn't give the wizard the satisfaction of knowing he had, indirectly, caused this scar. Instead, Legolas looked him right in the eye and remained silent.

Graelath's lips curled into a sneer. "Fine, then we will do this the hard way." He lowered the knife, lightly tracing the contour of the scar, not quite pushing hard enough to draw blood. "Where?"

Legolas remained silent, his breath even, seemingly unworried when in fact his heart wanted to race out of his chest and barrel from the room. He tensed slightly when the pressure increased and he felt the first rivulets of blood trickle down his lower torso.

Locking eyes with Arwen, he took comfort in her presence. He swallowed, still refusing to speak. Graelath leaned in closer and whispered in his ear, "You might want to tell me."

Again, the Elf made no move to answer. He heard Graelath grunt, than felt a wave of pain as the dagger was ruthlessly jammed into the old wound. Refusing to cry out, he bit his lip hard and his eyes snapped shut. Clenching his hands tightly closed, he reeled against the pain but made no noise.

He waited until he felt the dagger ripped back out before he let out a breath and slowly opened his eyes again; pain etched in his face for only a moment before he brought it under control and again assumed a passive face. Blood rolled down to meet the top of his trousers and began to seep into the fabric, turning it a dark brown.

Tears began to fall from Arwen's eyes and his heart ached to comfort her, knowing that she was crying for him. He knew he would eventually cry out, knew that it was only a matter of time before Graelath had him writhing in pain. He hated to think what that would do to Arwen.

"You must learn to be a little more cooperative, Elf. You won't tell me where you got that scar; or anything else about you except that you are dear to the King...but no matter, I don't really need to know for I just do this for fun."

Legolas watched as Graelath moved to the chamber door. He couldn't make out what he was saying, but his heart hammered harder in his chest when he saw Graelath return with Moroch. "I need a little help from my friend here, perhaps he can persuade you to talk to me."

With a snap of Graelath's fingers, Legolas suddenly found himself facing the wall, his arms and legs now crossed above and below him. He cringed when pain rippled through his stomach, the wound smarting at the violent jerk.

He heard Graelath speak again, sarcasm in his voice as he addressed the Queen. Evidently, he was still angry at her and was going to make her participate in her friend's torture. "Lady Arwen, please choose an implement from this wall here."

Arwen looked at Graelath with all the loathing she could muster. Her eyes were dark and her fists clenched. "Why do you torment me this way? Making me choose how to hurt a dear friend is no way to win my affection."

Graelath leaned closer. "Either you choose it or I will," he said with a sneer.

Knowing the wizard would choose the worst of the weapons possible, Arwen looked over the wall of whips; not sure which ones were worse. Her eyes fell on the simple leather one and she pointed to it. "There, that one."

To her immense surprise, Graelath removed it from the wall and turned to Moroch, "Go ahead and choose from the remaining ones, my friend."

Arwen was seething. "You tricked me!"

The wizard just smiled sweetly. "You think me stupid, Queen Arwen? I knew you would choose the least painful one of them all."

Legolas, hearing the exchange leaned his head against the wall. Arwen was trying to help him, but she was angering the wizard in the process. He only hoped the wizard would focus all his attention on him and leave the Queen alone.

He heard, rather then saw, Moroch approaching. Graelath took hold of Arwen and dragged her over to the wall Legolas was chained to. "You will see much better from here," he said, placing her right beside Legolas.

The elf prince turned his head toward her, eyes full of sorrow. "_Goheno nin,"_ (Forgive me), Legolas said quietly, looking into the Queen's eyes.

She didn't answer, but swallowed, her eyes looking to the left toward Moroch, giving Legolas a split-second forewarning before the whip came down. As soon as the pain hit, he swung his head away from Arwen, not wanting to hurt her anymore then he had to.

From the feel of it, Moroch had chosen a whip with spikes at the end. It didn't just slap and leave welts; it tore through the flesh, drawing blood effortlessly. And Moroch was definitely putting effort into it.

There was a slight pause, as if Moroch was waiting for Graelath's blessing, then the blows fell like rain, ripping and shredding cloth and skin. Legolas held in all sound, jerking as the hits came, his eyes clamped shut and hands clenched.

His tunic was soon in tatters and the whip was only hitting flesh, making it all the more painful. His breath hitched in his throat when the whip hit a spot of sensitive, barely healed skin where he had taken the sword wound in the Shire.

Seeing the reaction of the Elf, Moroch aimed more blows toward that spot and Legolas found he was hard-pressed to keep quiet as the pain increased exponentially. He started to quiver; his body not fully healed enough to take this kind of abuse.

Moroch grew more and more angered as Legolas remained quiet and he suddenly threw all his weight into one of the strikes. He smiled when Legolas screeched involuntarily.

The blow sent fire across his back and Legolas cried out, though he tried not to. He slumped forward, leaning his forehead against the wall, trying to think of anything but what was happening to him.

The whip kept falling and Legolas was shaking uncontrollably now, silent tears threatening to fall as he was washed away by the waves of red-hot pain. He suddenly heard Arwen sobbing. Gathering what precious little strength he had, the Elf turned his head and opened his eyes, looking to her.

Arwen looked at him, crying openly at her friend's plight. Seeing his eyes on her, she whispered, "_Goheno nin, Legolas!"_ (Forgive me, Legolas!)

Mustering the last of his strength, Legolas whispered, his voice hoarse and cracking, "_Avo 'osto, Arwen." _(Fear not, Arwen.)

Then he was again swept away by the pain and he closed his eyes and leaned against the wall for support.

Graelath watched from behind Moroch, his eyes narrowing as he saw how well the Elf took the whipping. _I'll need to do something more painful then, if tearing flesh does nothing to break him. Perhaps burning will..._

"Moroch, that is enough, we need a new tactic." Graelath moved forward, eying the bloody mess Moroch had turned the Elf's back into. "Elf, turn back around."

Despite the pain he was in, Legolas knew disobedience was not the proper path right now and he struggled to turn round. He winced at the effort, but managed to face the wizard. His shoulders were slumped and he was breathing faster then normal, but his eyes were still defiant.

Graelath liked the challenge he saw, it would make killing the Elf all the more desirable when the time came. He saw that the prince was not leaning against the wall and he smiled lightly. Moving toward him, he suddenly thrust his hand out and shoved the Elf against the wall.

Legolas cut off the cry the action elicited, closing his eyes at the sensation of blinding pain. Graelath laughed and Legolas opened his eyes. "You can go on for quite some time I would reckon," Graelath said, smiling.

_Damn elven endurance! _Legolas thought to himself. For the first time in his life, he wished he didn't have the stamina and healing abilities of the Elves. If he was mortal, his body would fail him much sooner, saving him from more torture. But as he was an Elf, his body refused to allow him the sanctuary of unconsciousness.

While Legolas was lost in thought, Graelath had sent Moroch back to the hallway, fully intending on doing the next bit of torture on his own. This was his favorite technique because it was painfully slow.

He took hold of a pointed metal rod and held it inches from Legolas' face. "Do you know what I am going to do with this, Elf?" He asked, not really expecting Legolas to answer. When he was met with silence, he frowned. "Now, now, you need to be more polite and answer your betters."

Suddenly, Legolas spoke. "_Amin feuya ten' lle_!" (You disgust me!) He fairly spat the words at Graelath, knowing that the wizard had forgotten Elvish and would not know what he had said.

He was right.

"What did you say to me?" Graelath asked; his voice dangerously low.

Legolas just looked at him, fury in his eyes. He wasn't about to tell him the translation of his insult. It didn't matter anyway, Graelath was going to do what he was going to do no matter if Legolas cooperated or not. Perhaps now the wizard would push him past his limits and he would pass out.

"You will pay for your insolence, Elf. Be sure of that." The wizard turned toward Arwen. "What did he say, Lady?"

She shook her head from side to side, not saying anything. Her face was pale and drawn, and her tears were flowing faster with each passing moment. Graelath's face twisted in fury. He strode over to Arwen and shouted at her. "You won't tell me? Then you will be the reason your precious friend suffers so much! You must learn obedience, for my wife _will _be obedient. No better time to start then now!"

Stalking back to Legolas, Graelath dispensed with his metal rod and instead raised his hand and spoke in Etrain. Legolas' eyes widened when he felt extreme pressure on his chest. He found, suddenly, that it was getting harder and harder to breath.

He started to gasp now, shifting to try to ease the pressure. Suddenly, there was a sickening crunch and Legolas cried out. He felt the rib crack and shift inside him and his eyes jerked up to Graelath who stood smiling in front of him.

"Tell me what he said, Queen Arwen, or I will continue to break ribs until he has none left unbroken. Then I will continue the pressure until they puncture his lungs and he drowns in his own blood." Graelath didn't take his eyes from Legolas.

Arwen's voice wavered as she spoke. "You disgust me."

A frown creased Graelath's face. "I asked you to tell me what he said!" He was about to turn his magic on the Queen in anger when Legolas gasped.

"She told you what I said!" It took all his strength to relay that and he groaned, feeling a second rib crack.

As suddenly as the pressure had begun, it stopped, as Graelath lowered his hand. Legolas slumped forward; more in relief then exhaustion. Arwen was sobbing again. "I disgust you? Well, have you looked in the mirror lately, Elf, you aren't too becoming yourself at the moment."

He laughed now, once again raising his hand. A quick word and a bright flash of light erupted from his hand, impacting Legolas in the chest. Red-hot fire burnt his skin and he let out a strangled moan, not really having the energy or the breath to scream anymore, not after the last bit of magic. He could smell his singed tunic and looked up with fearful eyes this time.

Arwen saw the change in Legolas' eyes and as Graelath shouted again, she launched herself into the path of the bolt. It caught her in the midsection and she hit the ground hard, crying out. Legolas, seeing her move before realizing her intent, cried in fury. "Arwen! No!"

Graelath cursed, kneeling beside the Queen, checking for vital signs. Finding a pulse, he growled lightly and called to the Orcs outside the door. "Take the Queen back to the North Tower, put her in bed, DO NOT touch her in any way other then carrying her."

When they had left, carrying their precious cargo, Graelath turned back to Legolas. "We are not finished, though that was an unexpected mistake. You had better hope she is uninjured, not just for your own sake, but for your friend the King's."

Graelath took up the metal rod again and wasted no time. A light incantation and the tip turned a brilliant shade of red. Legolas knew what was coming and he steeled himself as he felt the first searing kiss of the molten metal against his bare chest.

The wizard dragged a scorching line along his breast, watching as an angry red burn appeared before his eyes. He could hear the Elf's labored breathing and he smiled. Looking up at Legolas' face, he raised the rod and brought it to the Elf's cheek.

Legolas' eyes burned as bright as the metal as Graelath marked his flawless skin, marring the white cheek with an angry red welt. When the Elf didn't move, Graelath again lost control and thrust the metal rod into Legolas' right shoulder.

This time a scream echoed through the lonely tower. And a Queen, emerging from unconsciousness in her prison, wept for a friend.


	24. The Arrival of Hope

_**Reviewer responses:**_

**Okay, first off, my beta is going to SO kill me for this. You see, this chapter has NOT really been BETA'D! SO...you all are getting the real me. The writing that has not been checked over...in other words, your pleas for an update have been heard and heeded, without going to the proper authorities. Okay okay, English...I'm updating without consulting my beta. And that is something I have tried hard not to do, but I can't get a hold of her. Be nice all you wielders of mightier LotR knowledge!**

**Deana: **Lol...yeah, remember ages ago when I last updated...I DID torture the crap out of Legolas! And I'm sorry to make you wait so long...we are nearing the bit you left off on.

**Mornflower: **Lovely skit as usual. I'm sorry for the wait...

**Lisa, Moonyasha: **Oie, can you find it in your hearts to forgive me for not updating? I'm sooo busy. Read below for the reason I took so long!!! Well, one of them anyway...

**Alatariel Narmolanya: **I like suspense. But I'm sorry for leaving you in suspense so LONG.

**Solo23: **Thanks for the review...you left...ages ago!! I hope I did send you those chapters you requested, I don't remember. And yes, I admit to a problem with "than" and "then". I even do that in my news stories!!! Yikes! I'm working on it!

**Karone Evertree: **Hehe...glad you liked the chapter. And that it fostered such thoughts from you! (By now you prolly forgot what it was about!!!) Anyway...here's an update...

**Dragonfire1214, the-Burglar: **You apologize for not reviewing in a while and bad me goes and doesn't UPDATE. Ugh...I'm the greater of the two evils! Thanks for the review...glad you liked the torture scene. I like to torture people...not for REAL mind you.... And to answer your question....Orlando.

**Kelsey: **Ah yes...you have caught a mistake. I do recall that part. And yes, it's hard to whip the tunic to shreds if it isn't on Legolas! Alas, a mistake got through. But...hopefully you still liked the chapter!!! YOU WANT GRAELATH when I'm done!? ! He's that real?! I was hoping he was believable! I don't know that they'll be much left....but uh...if there is...sure you can have him. And I'm SOOO sorry for the long wait. I updated without my beta looking at this because you aren't the only one who wanted one! And loved the Shakespeare...

**Isiliel: **Wow...I'm the first person you reviewed for?! Yes, you did it right. And I'm so sorry to update so LATE. I'm glad you like my stories! Smiles happily over here!!

**WhiteTigeress326: **Alas, don't cry! He will live!!! Glad to see you review. Sorry to reward said review with LATE UPDATE....

**Zammy**: So so so so so so sorry for this late update. I am updating because you and a few others begged me. Thanks for sticking with me!!!!

**OKAY all...the news...what kept me from updating...I GOT ENGAGED!!! AHHHH yes, Gwenneth is engaged! If you want details, e-mail **

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**Aragorn's Company...**

_If we walked any slower, we'd be moving backwards! _Aragorn thought to himself in exasperation. They seemed to him to be moving at a snail's pace. Not only was he certain that Legolas had gotten himself into loads of trouble by now, he had a bad feeling that Arwen was in danger as well, more than she had been earlier. How he knew that, he couldn't say, it was just a feeling.

Celeborn appeared at the king's elbow. "Aragorn? It might be best if I were to take my warriors and approach from the west. We could draw the enemy away from the entrance so that you and the others may enter easier."

Breaking from his reverie, Aragorn looked at the tall, blonde Elf beside him. "Oh, yes, that is a good idea, Lord Celeborn." He frowned, knowing he sounded caught off guard. And when Celeborn eyed him appraisingly, the king knew that the Elf Lord was aware of his state of mind.

"I don't want to sound harsh, _mellon nin, _but get it together before you go in there otherwise you will be a danger to yourself and the others." That said; Celeborn hurried away calling to his warriors before Aragorn could retort.

_Of course he is right, _Aragorn thought. _I go in there like this and Legolas' vision is likely to come true despite all his efforts to prevent it. _Pushing aside the thoughts, Aragorn took a deep breath and collected himself, straightening perceptibly.

Elrond and Galadriel exchanged knowing smiles. "He will be all right, now," the Elf Lord muttered. Elladan and Elrohir had been relatively quiet as they all neared the tower, both lost in thoughts of their dear sister. Lowgala had been respecting their feelings and not speaking, but now he was just about to burst.

"What am I to do when we get there?" he blurted, suddenly feeling stupid when all eyes fell on him. Blushing he looked to the twins in embarrassment.

For a moment, Elladan and Elrohir were speechless. Then, all of a sudden and at the exact same time, they broke out into peels of laughter. "Lowgala!" Elrohir choked through tears of mirth, "You waited all this time to ask us that?"

The creature crossed his arms across his chest and mustered the fiercest frown he could. "Well, yes. You were both preoccupied the whole time, we're almost there and I thought I'd ask!"

Elrond came to his sons' rescue. "Lowgala you will stick close to Gandalf and I, we will protect you. It is too dangerous to leave you with the warriors and Lord Celeborn. Just don't do anything stupid or rash."

Lowgala nodded in understanding, glaring at the still chuckling twins. "Sorry, Lowgala, I have no idea why that was so hilarious, but it DOES feel good to laugh," Elladan said quietly, putting a hand on the small being's shoulder.

A smile broke into Lowgala's frown. "It's all right; it is good to see you laugh, yes?"

"Yes." The twins sobered now, seeing Aragorn approaching, a look of barely restrained impatience on his face.

"When you are quite done laughing your heads off, we will advance to the tower..." he lifted his eyebrows, giving away his jest.

Elladan smiled. "We are more then ready, _gwador nin._" My brother)

Nodding, Aragorn motioned for them to follow him. Then the king, twins, the Ringbearers, the hobbits, Gimli, Thranduil and Erestor hurried toward the entrance of the tower, now within twenty yards of their current position.

They heard the orcs and Celeborn's warriors engaged in a fierce battle and knew that now was their best chance to enter the fortress undetected. Elladan and Elrohir went first, followed closely by Aragorn. The twins were quick to dispatch any orcs they caught sight of in the entranceway.

Once they had penetrated the fortress, they had to figure out where Graelath and the prisoners were. They didn't have to do much searching, a loud, painful cry sounded from above and they looked at one another, recognizing the voice.

_Legolas! _Aragorn raced in the direction of the cry, not bothering to confer with the others. Luckily, Elrond was able to grab his arm and pull him to a stop. "_Adar? _Why did you stop me? That is Legolas, he needs our help!"

Elrond put a finger to his lips. He didn't have to explain why. A company of orcs, apparently responding to the battle outside, rounded the corner Aragorn had just been about to run around. The king looked at his father in shame before drawing Anduril and slashing out at the nearest orc.

Thranduil, unbeknownst to the others, was still reeling from the shock of hearing his son's pained cry. While he was slashing away at Orcs, his mind was flooded with unbidden images of Legolas, writhing in pain.

His attention firmly held elsewhere, he missed the Orc swipe at his back. Feeling the bite of the cold scimitar, he cringed and arched away from the pain. Spinning on his heel, he relieved the Orc of its head and looked around.

Cries of the dying and the clashing of metal filled the dimly-lit corridor and soon the Orcs were all slain. Aragorn re-sheathed his sword and motioned for the others to follow him now. He wished he knew if Legolas was all right, but he had heard nothing since the initial cry. _In a way that is good, perhaps he is not being hurt anymore. Or..._he didn't want to think what that 'or' might be.

Thranduil hid his injury and hurried after Aragorn and the others.

**

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**Meantime...in the torture chamber...**

Legolas knew he would lose consciousness if Graelath didn't let him down. The Elf was weak beyond his normal capacity. He desperately needed time to recuperate. He was worried about Arwen, hoping against hope she was not badly hurt from Graelath's magic.

"Well, looks like you have taken about all you can handle, Elf," the wizard said, putting down the spiked contraption he had been holding. Gesturing to Moroch and the other Orc, Graelath motioned for them to take the Elf down. "Bring him back to the Queen's chambers; let them nurse each other's wounds."

Legolas slumped to his knees as soon as the chains were undone. He was harshly pulled to his feet, the ruthless jerk sending spasms of pain through his injured shoulder. He cried out loudly, not caring if anyone heard him anymore.

The wizard laughed as Legolas was dragged out of the room. He was barely able to remain upright as the Orcs took him back to the tower room. They shoved him through the door and he fell to the floor with a soft thud.

Hearing the door shut and bolted behind him, he tried to raise himself up but found he didn't even have the strength to do that.

"Legolas!"

Arwen fell to the ground beside him, gently easing him to a hunched over sitting position. His eyes traveled over her, coming to rest on the burnt dress and the nasty burn on her stomach. "Are...you...ok?" he managed to ask through his pain.

She nodded, avoiding his gaze. "Fine," she muttered. "But you need to rest. You are bleeding all over! That wizard will pay dearly for this!"

The prince didn't answer. He knew that Aragorn and the others should be here soon and he would need his strength back to make it out alive. There was still Graelath to take care of; Legolas wouldn't leave until the wizard was dead or captured.

"Is there any water?" he asked, shaking his head to stave off unconsciousness. Now was not the time to pass out as much as he might want to.

Arwen nodded, stood and hurried to get the water that the wizard had left her earlier.

Gratefully, Legolas drank the water as Arwen held it up for him. His hands were shaking and he was still breathing too fast for comfort, but the water soothed his parched throat. Turning his head to the side, he gasped a little and said quietly, "I am going to need your help, Arwen. I won't be able to get out of here in this condition."

Without hesitation, Arwen began to strip the tattered tunic from the prince's back. She cringed, seeing the devastation that the whip had caused. Then she uncovered the bleeding shoulder wound and a small gasp escaped her. "Oh, Legolas!"

He gently grasped her hand and pulled her around in front of him. "Don't you dare blame yourself for what happened to me," he said strongly. "It was my choice to come here; you might even say my destiny." His thoughts flickered to his sister, but he quickly shut them down, not wanting to become distracted by memory.

To her credit, Arwen smiled. "All right, _mellon nin_, I will not blame myself. But you will let me help you." She reached down to the hem of her dress and proceeded to tear the bright blue fabric into strips that would serve as bandages.

Looking over the Elf in front of her, Arwen decided to tackle the wounds in order of the most serious to the least serious. Her eyes fell on the stomach wound and she sighed. "I wish I had some herbs to use. I will clean these as best I can with only water, then I will bandage them and we will hope that you recover quickly."

Legolas did his best to remain silent and steady while Arwen cleaned and wrapped his wounds. Soon, the water was red tinted and there was a pile of soiled dress strips. But Legolas was no longer bleeding profusely and he felt a little less light-headed.

Glancing at Arwen he smiled. "_Hannon le, mellon nin_." Thank you, my friend.

Arwen nodded lightly. "Can you heal yourself?" She hated to prompt Legolas to drain his energy anymore, but she knew that Aragorn was nearing and that the prince would need to be able to function.

A small grimace crossed Legolas' face. "I don't think so, not without help." He was about to change the subject when he felt a breeze. There were no windows; no where for the breeze to have come from.

_Gweluthand. Can you help me heal myself? I do not have the strength to do it alone. _

For a moment it didn't seem like he would get an answer, but suddenly he felt stronger. Arwen gasped and took an involuntary step backwards. "What is happening?" she asked, looking at her friend with wide eyes.

Legolas' brow furrowed. "Gweluthand is lending me the strength to heal myself a little."

The look on Arwen's face turned from uncertainty to curiosity. "Oh, so that is why you are suddenly glowing. There is a beautiful pale blue light to you. I thought something was wrong for a minute."

The prince didn't answer. He lightly placed his hand on his dagger wound and let the words flow, closing his eyes as he felt the power surge through his body. Soon, he moved on to the shoulder wound. He would heal these two and deal with the whip wounds on his own.

Arwen looked on in silence, a small smile on her face. She knew they would be all right. They had to be because Legolas was going to make a wonderful uncle. Her hands traveled down to her stomach and she cringed a little when they came in contact with the burn.

While Legolas was busy, she stole a look at the wound. It wasn't that bad, the burn, but the impact had been intense. Pain suddenly ripped through her and she gasped lightly, looking up at Legolas to see if he had noticed.

When she saw he had not, she frowned. _I shouldn't feel sudden pain like that. I hope there is nothing wrong with the child._

"Arwen?" His voice broke her from her thoughts and she looked up sheepishly. "Are you all right? You seemed lost in thought."

For a moment, she didn't answer. The hesitation worried Legolas. Pushing himself to his feet, he hurried over to where Arwen was now perched on the bed. "Arwen?" he looked at her wound and sighed. "_Anírach i dulu nín?_" Do you want my help?

The Queen focused weary eyes on Legolas. "You are not strong enough, Legolas. I will be fine, it just stings a little; that's all."

Frowning, the elf prince shook his head. "At least let me clean and dress it Arwen. In your haste to help me you have not done either."

She acquiesced and Legolas set about his task, being as gentle as he could. As he was cleaning the area, he noticed a darkening bruise and his eyes drifted up to Arwen's face. She wasn't looking at him, instead staring off into nothing. He chose not to worry her.

The bruises did worry him, however. _Bruising usually means some sort of internal trauma. If she wasn't pregnant, I wouldn't be so worried. I hope the child is not harmed; I will have to watch her._

When he was finished, the two sat side by side on the small bed and waited, neither one able to go to sleep, yet neither able to try to escape either.

_Aragorn, please hurry. I can not take another session like that, _Legolas thought to himself as he shivered in the dark room.

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**A/N: Seeing as I am likely to get in trouble for updating at all...I couldn't in my right mind put up any more. I hope you all enjoy this bit and I hope me and Phoenixqueen can get a hold of one another to work on other updates....**

**-Gwenneth**


	25. Fight for Freedom

_**Reviewer responses:**_

**Karone Evertree: **Thanks for the review…Aragorn is there!!! Enjoy

**Deana: **Thanks for sticking with me. Hope you enjoy this chapter…

**KeshieShimmer: **Glad you liked it. Hope you enjoy this one too. And the baby questions will all be addressed.

**SageWriting: **Here's your update. Enjoy.

**Isiliel: **Baby question answered soon. As well as Graelath's fate. Glad you liked and thanks for the congrats on the engagement.

**Moonyasha: **Enjoy!

**Alatariel Narmolanya: **Sorry bout the long cliffie. Hope you like this!!!

**Yaviel: **Thanks for the review. Thanks for the congrats on the engagement and I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as the last one!

**Zammy: **Here's the update. Phoenixqueen and I just don't have schedules that jive…but I couldn't have written the story so well without her!

**Kelsey: **Thanks _mellon nin_! You're so sweet. Glad you liked the chapter, you shall see what happens and I think you'll like it. I don't want any 12-24 year olds out there to kill me when I'm done so you can guess Legolas' fate!

**Insanechildfanfic: **Hello and glad you like!

**Dragonfire1214: **Howdy! I know it took long to update…again…but I hope you like it!! Think Christmas time gift…I did Pick Orlando…but that doesn't mean I don't like Aragorn ALMOST as much…

**Sweet-haret179: **Glad you liked that. And that you felt the description put you into the story. I was trying for that. I want my readers to feel like they are there and going through it. Enjoy the next chappie.

**Kirsten: **I know you have read my stories and I wanted to thank you immensely for all the reviews you have left. AND for pointing out the bits that don't show up on SO…note to you…if you have a chapter you can not read…EMAIL me and I'll send it to you… !!!

**Goldenshadows: **Glad you read some of the story. You reviewed on Chapter 3, so I don't know when or if you will get to this chapter! Enjoy if you do!

**Cyfloel**: Thanks for reading! So you speak Chinese? I'm glad you took time to read my fic, seeing as it's in English and I know it is frustrating when I read stories in French because my first language isn't French! Enjoy!

**Washow**: Please don't worry…we WILL finish this fic. I've been real busy, but I promise you that I will not leave this hanging forever. I know the wait must be horrible and I'm sure I've lost readers because of it, but please hang in there.

**A/N: Hey all. This was a long time in coming, I know, and I am sorry about that. We are nearly to the end of the massively long fan fiction and I am glad that so many of you have enjoyed and stuck with it. I shall try to get the end up soon, I hate keeping you hanging. When I am finished with the story…it will definitely be weird not hearing from you all. Thanks so much for the support, the reviews, but most of all, your reading!!!**

**-Gwenneth**

**AND Phoenixqueen…you are the BEST…you know that?! I want to thank you officially, in "ink" on here because I couldn't have done this without you!  
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**Chapter 25: _Fight for Freedom_**

_Graelath's Tower…_

Aragorn and the others raced through the tower corridors, ascending stairs and clashing briefly with wandering orcs and Uruk's. They were surprised they hadn't met with Graelath yet. Aragorn, in the lead, slid to a stop just inside a large chamber. He frowned when Elladan crashed right into him, knocking him forward a step before the Elf was able to regain his footing.

"Watch it!" Aragorn chided. "Something is not right here."

He had expected Elladan to answer, but instead, he was answered by another voice. A voice he did not recognize. "How rude to say something is not right when you are a guest in someone's home."

By now the others had reached Aragorn's side and everyone stood, weapons held tightly but not up, watching as someone stood from behind a tall, black chair. A shock of bright red hair and pale face greeted them with dull, lifeless eyes and a wide smirk.

"Welcome, King of Gondor, to my humble abode. I have been waiting for you." The man stepped forward, his black robes swinging with his power strides. "I am Graelath, the Black Wizard. And I will soon be the ruler of Middle-Earth."

He stopped a short distance from the group and looked them over. "Well, well, if it isn't Galadriel of the Golden Wood. Fancy meeting you here. I do recall saving you once and this is how you repay me."

Galadriel did not move. She only smiled lightly, staring right at Graelath. "You kidnapped my granddaughter and are keeping a good friend's son captive." She made no other attempt to speak, just stared at Graelath with her penetrating gaze that few could hold for long.

True to form, Graelath could not meet her stare for long. He was forced to look away from the shining eyes of the Elven Queen, and instead focused his attention on the rest of the group. "How sentimental…the mighty Fellowship of the Ring, reunited to once again save Middle Earth." He locked gazes with Elrond and Gandalf. "Quite interesting. Do you believe this to be a sign that the reunited Fellowship can defeat me?" He laughed a low, ominous chuckle that made several members of the group fidget. "You are welcome to try."

Aragorn, losing his control, shouted. "Where is my wife and where is Legolas?"

Graelath's smile only widened. "You mean the foolish Lothlorien elf that just strolled up here and asked to be captured? He's my…guest." Something about the way that he'd said that last sentence made Elrond and Gandalf shoot each other worried looks.

However, when Graelath mentioned that Legolas was from Lothlorien, everyone looked confused and puzzled at his mistake. What made him think that Legolas was from Lothlorien? Was it the fact that both he and Galadriel had golden hair, so the wizard thought that all the elves of Lothlorien had golden hair? Galadriel was one of the Noldor, but Legolas was a Sindarin elf with Silvan blood from his mother's side.

Graelath caught their looks of puzzlement and smirked. "Do not think that your plan of infiltrating my fortress with an advance member of your precious rescue party will succeed. I caught him easily enough, and you have only made it this far because I wished you to. I have more orcs and Uruk-hai at my command than you could possibly imagine."

Aragorn's patience was completely gone at the wizard's arrogant tone. "Where is Prince Legolas!?" As soon as the former ranger said that, he winced, somehow knowing that he had just royally screwed up.

It was Graelath's turn to frown. "_Prince_ Legolas, you say? There are no princes of Lothlorien. Despite the fact that I have hated the elves for more years than you can know, that does not mean that I have not followed what goes on in their realms." He extended his arm, and a large black crow came and settled on his wrist. The wizard smiled. "These birds may not be the most intelligent creatures, but they are useful as spies." He stared at Elrond and Galadriel. "I know that your only child was the Lady Celebrian, Lady Galadriel, and that she became the wife of you, Lord Elrond." He laughed. "And I also know that she sailed long ago after a rather unpleasant incident, shall we say."

The twins stepped forward at this mention of their mother's fate. Gandalf reached forward and grabbed their shoulders, holding them back. Elrond's eyes flashed in anger and deeply buried pain at the mention of his wife, but otherwise he held his composure.

Understanding and comprehension suddenly washed over the wizard's face, and Graelath's eyes narrowed. "Legolas is the son of Thranduil, Elven-king of Eryn Lasgalen, formerly Mirkwood, is he not?" He focused on the King. "Your wife was clever, Lord Elessar, telling me that he was from Lothlorien so that I wouldn't know who it was that I held. Not that it really mattered what she told me, since it had no bearing on how badly I hurt him."

Elladan and Elrohir had to restrain Aragorn from rushing the wizard. "Why you! If you harmed one hair on his head…I'll kill you! If it's the last thing I do!"

The smile on Graelath's face disappeared and he gazed at Aragorn. "I didn't harm a hair on his head, but I did plenty of harm to the rest of him. And trying to kill me _will_ be the last thing you do, King of Gondor, have no fear there." He fairly spat his words, anger rising at the man's insolence.

"_Sîdh, Estel, sîdh_. (Peace, Estel, peace.)" Elrond warned, careful to speak so only his son heard, though he doubted that Graelath understood Elvish. As he spoke, he could see that Graelath was appraising him.

Then the wizard's eyes focused on Thranduil, who was hovering at Elrond's elbow, his own anger boiling just below the surface at what he knew had been a painful time for his son.

Suddenly, the wizard smiled. "Ah, so you are all here then. Perfect…I had thought I would have to find you the hard way and hope I hadn't killed you off with the rest of the Elves. I never realized I had a way of drawing Thranduil here all along."

All eyes were focused on the wizard in confusion. Graelath laughed. "I see I have confused you. I will explain then," he said as he slowly paced the room, staff in hand. "I have known of the Elven Rings of Power my entire life. And I have no doubt that they are in the possession of the rulers of the three Elven realms…Rivendell, Lothlorien, and Mirkwood."

Galadriel, Elrond and Gandalf exchanged looks. The wizard, showing no outward signs of concern, thought to himself; _So, Graelath assumed that Thranduil has the third Ring. And now he realizes he can get to Thranduil through Legolas which is why he was so interested to hear who Legolas was when Aragorn said it. This might work to our advantage._ He cast a glance toward Thranduil, who looked discreetly back at him. The Elven-king knew what Gandalf was thinking.

In the meantime, the interplay between wizard and Elf went unnoticed and Graelath's smile broadened. "You have things I want, I have things you want. Perhaps we could arrange a trade."

Aragorn was shaking his head before the man began the sentence. "Give us what is ours and we will kill you quickly, wizard."

Again, Elrond grabbed his son. "Aragorn, that was not wise, _ion nin_ (my son)."

But Graelath only laughed at the King. "Bold words for one whose wife and friend are in my hands, Aragorn son of Arathorn." He called toward a far door, across the hall from where Aragorn and his company had entered. "Moroch, fetch me the prince and the lady. I'm sure they won't want to miss this."

Whoever the wizard had addressed grunted a reply and left, never coming into the room. After a few tense minutes of quiet, they could hear scuffling in the corridor the orc gone down. Then, suddenly, Legolas was thrust into the room and Arwen led after him by another orc.

Aragorn saw Legolas stumble when he was shoved and he took in the pained expression on the Elf's face. His own face tightened in anger. Legolas had been worked over very well and he was wearing only a light shirt that was stained with his blood. His tunic was gone completely.

Thranduil looked about ready to go to his son, but a warning look from Elrond stopped him as well. Instead, he clenched his hands tightly around his sword and shifted his weight from one leg to the other, trying to ignore the growing pain in his wound and the urge to save Legolas.

Graelath chose to address the newcomers now. He moved in front of Legolas and grabbed the prince's chin to get him to look at him. Legolas jerked free from his grasp and fixed him with a furious glare.

The wizard frowned a little but chose not to punish the infraction. "So, despite Queen Arwen's lie, I now know the truth. You are not from Lothlorien; you are the son of Thranduil. Which means you can help me get something I want. I can't see it, but that doesn't mean he doesn't have it."

Legolas was confused now. _What on Middle-Earth is he talking about? I don't see how knowing who I am changes anything, since he doesn't know I have magic…so what's this new bit of questioning?_

The prince spoke slowly. "What are you talking about, Graelath?"

The wizard lashed out suddenly, hitting Legolas' wounded shoulder, bringing a short cry from the Elf. "Don't act ignorant! Your father has it, and I want it!"

Breathing deeply to try to stop the searing pain from Graelath's blow, Legolas didn't answer. He glanced past the wizard toward his would-be rescuers, confusion evident in his face, before locking eyes with his father and holding them. Silently, he asked for forgiveness from his father for leaving them, trying to convey that in his eyes where Graelath would be unaware of it.

Thranduil saw the look in his son's eyes and nodded ever so slightly, acknowledging Legolas' silent message and conveying one of his own to his son. Elrond, wanting to avoid further injury to the prince, spoke up.

"Thranduil doesn't have one of the Rings, Graelath. Legolas can do nothing to help you get it. They were hidden much better than that for fear that someone might figure all three Rings were in the hands of the rulers of the Elven realms."

Legolas' eyes widened in understanding and he hoped that Graelath would believe the Elf lord.

He watched tensely as Graelath pondered the Elf Lord's answer. "All right then. Say I believe you, Elf. Then who has the third Ring?"

Elrond, glancing at Arwen to see if she was all right, shook his head. "We can not tell you."

While Graelath was silent, Elrond stole a glance at the twins, locking eyes with Elladan and trying to assure him that Arwen was all right. The elder twin seemed to get the message because he laid a restraining hand on Elrohir's arm, since the younger twin looked about ready to make a break for their sister.

Elrohir looked up at his brother, silently communicating, than nodded at his father. They both understood. Aragorn was going to be harder. He was fairly fuming and looked about ready to snap at any minute. Silent looks would not stop Aragorn from doing something foolish.

As if on cue, Aragorn took a step forward. Graelath didn't notice him yet, as his gaze was distant while he pondered Elrond's statement. The king took another step toward his wife. This time, his movement did not escape the wizard.

"Oh, you mustn't do that, King Elessar," the wizard said half-heartedly, fully aware that the king likely wouldn't listen to him.

Legolas' eyes snapped up. _I've heard those words before! _The Elf thought to himself. Then he had it. "Aragorn no! My dream!"

Gandalf, hearing the prince's plea, knew something terrible was about to happen, though he didn't know what. He saw Graelath raise his staff, perceived his lips moving in a chant, and immediately reacted in kind.

A bolt of white fire erupted from Graelath's staff and headed straight for Aragorn. The rescue party scattered, diving for all corners of the room to avoid being caught by the bolt. Aragorn however could not move; the man was frozen in place. He closed his eyes; waiting for the impact he knew would come. But it never came.

Risking a glance, he cracked his right eye open a bit and saw there was nothing in front of him. Relief flooded through the King and he looked around, trying to ascertain what had just happened.

Gandalf was standing in front of him, his staff out in front of him, pointing at Graelath. The Istar was breathing deeply, like he had just run a marathon. In fact, he had been scared for a moment that he hadn't caught the threat in time.

Legolas' eyes were wide and he didn't let out his breath until he was sure that Aragorn was all right. _Oh thank the Valar, _he thought to himself. _At least the dream has been averted and this wasn't all for nothing. _

In the meantime, Graelath was looking closely at Gandalf. "I know of the Istari and the magic you possess. What you just did should not be possible." His eyes narrowed. "So, since you are not Ethaim, how did you do that, wizard?"

When he saw that Gandalf did not intend to answer him, he grabbed hold of Legolas and pulled a dagger from his side. Placing it against the prince's exposed neck, he spoke again. "How did you do that? Tell me or this one dies right now."

_: Elrond, Galadriel. I cannot allow the wizard to kill Legolas. I feel strongly we will need him to win this fight. I must tell him of the Ring. : _Gandalf said telepathically, drawing on the power of his Ring to make his thoughts heard. He felt agreement from the other two Ringbearers.

Focusing his attention on Graelath, he looked Legolas in the eyes, sorrow filling him at the look of guilt he saw there. "I am a Ringbearer," the wizard answered. "Thranduil does not carry the item you seek. I do."

Legolas' eyes widened. He never knew that the Istar carried the Ring of Fire. Shame filled him. _If I hadn't been captured, Mithrandir would not have had to give himself away. This is my fault. All I wanted to do was help my friends._

Suddenly, and much to his surprise, the Orc holding him cut his bonds and thrust him forward. Graelath turned toward him and smiled. "I do not wish to kill a bound Elf. Therefore, I will kill you when you are free."

Before he could do anything though, the Black Wizard stiffened and spun to the side, his staff swinging out and batting away Elladan's sword. The elven twin had used the distraction provided by Gandalf to make a quiet, lethal rush for the wizard, but Graelath was too fast for him. The elegantly curved blade flew from the elder twin's grasp, flying through the air and slamming into the black marble wall with a crash and then hitting the floor with a clatter.

"_Merith naghiar_ (Move not)!" Graelath cried and everyone in the room found themselves frozen, held immobile by the power of the wizard's spell. Eyes widened all around, for no one could move to make an attack on the wizard. They were all at the mercy of the Black Wizard now, and there was nothing they could do.

Graelath's smirk was disgustingly gleeful, for he knew that he now had the upper hand in the situation. He could hold the spell on all of them forever, and dispose of them at his leisure, beginning with the King of Gondor, and the others could do nothing to prevent it. They were unable to even close their eyes. They were only able to breathe, so they would be forced to watch as, one by one, he destroyed them.

Waving his staff, he focused on Aragorn and the King felt himself jerked forward as Graelath's powers pulled him forward to stand in front of him. Aragorn could see Arwen behind Graelath's frozen in place as well. She stared at him, and her beautiful silver eyes were full of tears. She knew that the wizard fully intended to dispose of Aragorn first, which would clear the way for him to take her as his Queen. Her eyes conveyed a message of love to the man, and he tried to send the same message back to her, but his sight of her was blocked by Graelath standing in front of him.

"I told you, King of Gondor. No one can defeat me. Your only hope was that brave, but misguided fool Cellnen, but since I killed him years ago, you have no chance of defeating me…and even he couldn't defeat me, not even with the help of that pitiful little blue mist that he had power over." He looked behind him to where Arwen was standing, frozen, before looking back to Aragorn. "You will die today, King of Gondor, but, before I kill you, I think I should reassure you that your lady wife will not be harmed. I fully intend, once you are dead, to take her as _my_ Queen and raise your child myself." Turning slightly, without releasing any of them from the spell, he gestured to Arwen. "Now, my dear, you will see what I meant about having ways of making you submit to me. Come here."

Arwen was pulled forward by Graelath's power. She fought against it with all her willpower, but she wasn't strong enough to break free. She walked forward to Graelath's side and was forced to look him in the eyes as he leaned forward and kissed her full on the lips.

No one spoke; no one could do anything but watch helplessly as Graelath took pleasure in tormenting them with this disgusting sight. Arwen wanted to gag, she wanted to bite down on the wizard's mouth, but she couldn't move. All she could do was scream silently as the kiss went on and on. Another jab of pain tore through her, more severe than the previous ones. They were coming more and more frequently now, and she was frightened.

Finally, Graelath pulled away and leered at Aragorn, before sighing in contentment and nodding. "Lady Arwen will make a wonderful Queen for me, and I have no doubt that she will bear me strong children to continue the line of the Ethaim in Middle-Earth." Gesturing with his staff, he pushed Arwen away from him, back towards where she had originally been standing. He was fairly gentle, making sure not to damage the child within her, but she still fell to a heap on the ground behind him, back in the corner of the room.

"Now, it is time for me to finish with this little business. I will kill this one," he gestured towards Aragorn while looking around the room at the rest of the group, "and then claim my Rings and escort the rest of you to my dungeons, for I tire of this. Don't worry; you will all eventually join the brave, former King of Gondor. A pity that you had to interfere with me, for now the reign of the King will be cut tragically short." He smiled evilly at Aragorn. "Prepare to die, Elessar!"

He began to speak and Legolas knew he was using Etrain magic. He would not let the evil wizard kill his friend! Not after everything he went through trying to prevent that very occurrence!

_Gweluthand, shield us please! _He hoped she had enough strength after helping him heal himself, but he didn't have any other alternative. If she wasn't able to shield them, they would not make it out of here alive.

Much to his relief, the light blue mist of Gweluthand appeared around himself and his friends. In that instant, the spell that Graelath held on them was broken, and they were all free to move again. Aragorn took advantage of the wizard's surprise and dove away from him, towards Arwen. Legolas pulled away from the orc behind him and faced Graelath after making sure that everyone was free. He did notice, however, that Arwen was not among the shielded. This worried him.

Elladan lunged for his sword again and caught it up as everyone readied their own weapons, save for Legolas who had no weapons. Graelath was looking around incredulously. His eyes were wide with shock at the appearance of Gweluthand, so suddenly, and his eyes roved from the face of one elf to another until his black eyes came to rest on Legolas. A look of understanding, rage, and other unidentifiable emotions passed over his face as he realized what had happened. "YOU! You are the descendant of that half-wit Cellnen! I _knew_ there was something wrong with the story you told me!"

Legolas shook his head. "I am not a descendant of Cellnen…but I do hold the same power he did. Now, Graelath, you will pay for your crimes against the people of Middle-Earth. Not only for the destruction of the Elves of Eryn Lasgalen and Rivendell, including my sister, but for the deaths of the people of Rohan, the hobbits of the Shire, and the Great Wizard Council."

Before Legolas could do anything, Graelath struck out, calling on a spell that was not Etrain, and as such, Gweluthand could not block it. There was a great flash of light and energy that struck the ground at Legolas' feet. The elf leaped out of the way and tumbled to the ground, striking the hard marble on his wounded shoulder. Pain tore through the deep, badly burned wound, but Legolas stifled the cry of pain that wanted to erupt from his throat. He wouldn't give the wizard the pleasure of knowing how much pain he had caused the prince during their earlier session.

Legolas had no clue what to do, and for once, there was no voice in his head telling him what to say to make his magic work. He didn't understand why his magic would abandon him, if Gweluthand was present and shielding them from Graelath. Before he was able to think on it, Aragorn shouted to him.

"Legolas! Arrow!"

The prince's keen hearing picked up the sound of an arrow leaving a bow, but not from Graelath's direction. He spun back toward the orc that had been holding him captive. As he spun, he thrust out his hand and in the blink of an eye had caught hold of the arrow shaft in mid-air. The shaft was not smooth like the arrows of the elves, and it grazed his hand roughly before he stopped it.

For a moment, Graelath didn't do anything. He couldn't believe the reflexes of the wood-elf, the last thing he had expected was for the Elf to catch the projectile, especially injured as he was. Anger surged through him. Nothing seemed to be going right this day and he was not going to be defeated now. Not when he was so close.

Legolas knew that Graelath would only hesitate a moment, so he wracked his brain for something to do. Suddenly, he heard the voice in his head again, speaking in the soft Quenya.

Legolas was suddenly struck with a realization, and he understood why he kept hearing a voice in his head. It was extremely simple once he put all the pieces together. He followed along with the chant, and before his eyes, a warm golden glow flowed from his hand into the arrow.

He wasn't sure what was about to happen, until he noticed the arrow's tip also glowing. In a split second, the arrowhead burst into flames. Without hesitating, and acting on an impulse that he didn't understand, he thrust his hand outward and the arrow sailed toward Graelath, propelled by the air itself as Legolas had no bow to shoot it from.

The wizard's eyes widened in shock as the projectile hit the end of his staff and exploded, setting the elegantly carved staff on fire and destroying it so that it was impossible to cast spells with it. He threw it away from him and it clattered to the ground. The orcs fled the room before the wrath of the rescue party could be turned against them.

Graelath's eyes narrowed. "You think I am defeated, Prince Legolas? You will find that I am not so easily finished. And now you have no weapon."

Legolas frowned. That was very true. The Orcs had taken his quiver, bow and knives, and put them somewhere, and he had no idea where to find them. He remembered what the book that Pippin had found in Gondor said. '_But despite his power, Cellnen could not defeat Ethaim magic, only block it._' If Cellnen could not defeat Graelath, how could he?

"Legolas!" Aragorn called, tossing his hunting knife towards the elf. It landed on the marble floor and skidded across it to rest at the prince's feet. Legolas snatched the elegant blade up, and then turned towards Graelath, the blade poised and ready. He doubted the wizard would be taken down by a thrown knife, for, despite being without his staff, he was still a healthy, formidable man.

_: Legolas…I could not take the wizard down alone…but you are not alone. You have the strength of your friends and loved ones…use it, and you will triumph! :_ the familiar voice said to him, providing the prince with his answer, before breaking out into another stream of Quenya, which the prince immediately began to echo.

Before his eyes, Aragorn's knife floated in the air in front of his face, hovering there, waiting for something. Legolas tore his eyes away from the knife and locked eyes with Aragorn. The two friends stared at each other for a long minute.

"Together! Together we will end this madness now!" Legolas cried, breaking off the chant for a moment. "Our hearts must be united, they must be one! We are a Fellowship of friends and family, and that is the key to the puzzle that we could not find!"

There were puzzled looks flying towards Legolas, who continued to chant, increasing in volume with each word. There was a low humming filling the room, and Gweluthand's blue glow still lit the room, protecting them from the wizard's wrath and powers.

It was Arwen who first figured out what Legolas was asking of them. Pulling herself painfully to her feet in the corner where she had been flung after Graelath had kissed her, she cried out, "Together! Everyone, concentrate on what we must do! Give Legolas the strength to end this, once and for all!" With these words, Arwen faced the prince and raised her voice in a song, of hope for the future, of love for those dear to her heart. With each note, the Fellowship could feel power building from somewhere.

Slowly, one by one, each member of the rescue party joined in, in whatever way they could. Thranduil, Elrond, Galadriel, and Aragorn joined in Arwen's song, the power building still further. Legolas continued his chant, channeling the power that the elven song was producing. Gandalf raised his staff and began to chant as well, picking up on the prince's words and following him. Gimli and the hobbits, not knowing what else to do, simply began to speak, their words calling for Legolas to end it.

With each second that passed, the floating knife began to glow. The light grew brighter and brighter with each passing moment, with each word or note that passed from the lips of the Fellowship. Graelath had begun to shift uneasily, and he was watching the knife with wary eyes.

Finally, Legolas locked eyes with the Black Wizard. Then, he changed the chant and as if thrown by an invisible hand, the knife moved, whistling through the air, still glowing as the songs and chants continued.

Graelath tried to dodge the knife, but, with an eerie sense of guidance, the knife changed its course mid-flight, and buried itself to the hilt in the wizard's chest, knocking him back a step and sending him crashing to the ground. He clutched at the knife, unbelieving eyes locked on Legolas, who stood still, not finished with the wizard just yet.

The wound was bad, but not fatal and Legolas could not afford for the wizard to cast more spells. He knew that Gweluthand was shielding his friends and he momentarily forgot about the Etrain spells Graelath didn't need his staff for.

But when the wizard began to chant, his voice nearly breaking at the effort, but determination in his eyes, Legolas realized-to his horror-that Arwen was not shielded! She was still standing in the corner, half-hidden by the shadows and unbelievably, Gweluthand had not noticed her back there! His eyes snapped toward the Queen, who was clutching her abdomen tightly, hunched over, as the wizard's chant grew and then finally silenced. As the wizard's voice ceased, Arwen crashed to the ground, crying out in pain as she struck the marble floor.

Aragorn made a beeline for his wife, dropping to his knees as he reached her and pulling her into his lap, allowing her head and upper body to rest on his knees, supporting her weight with intense worry on his face. "Arwen!"

"What have you done to her?" two voices cried out simultaneously. Elladan and Elrohir had reached the wizard by now, both had their swords trained on him and were only restrained from striking killing blows by their father and grandmother's hands on their shoulders.

Legolas hurried over to Arwen, gently placing his hand beneath her jaw and looking into her eyes. _Something is seriously wrong here. Gweluthand, please shield Graelath so his magic can not do us more harm._

The mist of the air shroud faded from the majority of the room, before reforming, surrounding the fallen wizard, who was smiling through his pain. Elrond and the others, seeing that the threat was gone, hurried over to the Queen.

"Lowgala, Frodo…" Legolas called over his shoulder, "Please, would you guard Graelath so he does not escape? We must see to Arwen!"

Frodo nodded and the hobbits and Lowgala all clustered around the wizard, watching him but sending worried glances towards where the others were gathering around the fallen Queen, whose face was crumpled in pain as she gasped for breath.

Elrond dropped to his knees beside his daughter. He placed his hands on Arwen's stomach and frowned, his face going still with concentration and his eyes going blank for a moment as he used his healing powers to try and figure out what the problem was. Everyone else waited with bated breath. It didn't take long for the healer to finish his probing. His eyes came back into focus and he looked down, meeting Arwen's eyes. The Queen's breathing had steadied, but her face was still filled with pain and fear.

"Have you been having pains, my child?" he asked, looking steadily at her, before glancing up at Galadriel, who knelt across from him on Aragorn's other side, next to Legolas.

For a moment, she didn't look like she would answer. Then, turning her gaze toward Legolas she sighed. "Since I was hit with one of Graelath's power bolts I have noticed sharp pains. They seem to be getting worse though." She was silent for a long moment, her eyes filled with fear as she looked from Aragorn to her grandmother and father. "Do you know what ails me, _Adar_?"

Looks were exchanged. Elrond took a deep breath, blinking back tears. "You are having a miscarriage, Arwen. The blow you suffered must have been the cause, not to mention the stress of the journey and of the battles you fought in. I am so sorry." He raised a hand and caressed his daughter's face, cupping her cheek in his warm hand as several tears dripped from his eyes to land on his tunic.

Legolas was mortified. _It's all my fault! If only I hadn't allowed myself to be taken, if I had freed her, this never would have happened. Now they will lose the child. It is all my fault._ Aragorn noticed the elf prince's face. He knew that expression.

Releasing one of his hands from their position on Arwen's shoulders, but not wanting to let go entirely, Aragorn reached out and gripped his friend's arm. "You are not to blame for this. If you could have prevented Arwen being hurt, I know you would have done so." His voice was heavy with the grief that he and Arwen were going to lose the precious child that she carried, but he was trying to be strong for his friend, who had been through so much lately.

Legolas looked up at the man in surprise. "How did you know I was blaming myself?"

Aragorn chuckled lightly, despite the heaviness in his heart at the ill news. "I know you, _mellon nin_. I know you well enough to read your emotions in your eyes.

Suddenly, Lowgala piped up from where he was guarding the fallen wizard. "Hey, he's not doing too well. Someone might want to come see!"

All eyes turned on the wizard, though none of them held any pity or remorse for the condition the man was in. He was indeed failing, his eyes were glazed and his breath came in short, sporadic gasps.

The group parted and pulled back, gathering around the wizard, without coming too close to Gweluthand, but making sure that Aragorn, Arwen, and Elrond could still see. Legolas came last, but pushed his way to the front of the gathered group and addressed Graelath.

"You cast a spell just before I shrouded you." He stated matter-of-factly, his voice cold and toneless with repressed rage, sorrow, and guilt. "What did you do?" he asked, kneeling near the wizard, careful not to enter the shroud where he would be susceptible to the spells of the wizard.

To his surprise, and dismay, Graelath smiled. "My last blow to you all. You ruined my plans, I will ruin your lives!" he coughed, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. When he caught his breath, he continued with a smile. "The Queen will bear no more children; I have cast a spell to make her infertile. Gondor will have no heir, Elessar and Arwen, no children to brighten their lives. Every lonely day you will remember me and know I took that from you."

His breathing grew more labored and he was wracked by a fit of coughing that seemed to have no end. Legolas, fuming at the news, ignored the gasps of horrified surprise and narrowed his eyes. Before he could say anything else, however, the now-familiar voice spoke again.

_: Wait Legolas. Do not slay him. :_

Legolas was incredulous. _Why should I not? He has murdered, and he must pay the price._

_: Yes, but it is the right of the Valar to dispense such justice. He has committed horrible crimes, yes, but he is still a living being. His life has been filled with pain and loss, and in his grief, he struck back at those who had no blame in the cause of his pain. If you slay him now, you will be a murderer too, no better than he is. :_ There was a brief hesitation. _: That is why I could not kill him when I had the chance. I knew what I was doing was wrong, and, deep down, I didn't want to kill him. In a way, this is as much my fault as it is his, but I long ago forgave him, with my dying breath. Forgive him, Legolas. There is nothing he has done that cannot be undone, including the spell he cast on the Queen. Forgive him, and give him the chance to heal, to reclaim those he lost, even as you and the others will one day reclaim those that you have lost. The Valar will judge him for his evil deeds. It is not your place to do so. It is your place to offer forgiveness. Trust me, Legolas. :_

Legolas considered these words, this plea, for a long minute. Though every fiber of him screamed to end the wizard's life here and now, something else was telling him that Cellnen was right. Cellnen was the person that had spoken to him. He didn't know how, or why, but he knew that the other was correct.

"Thank you, _mellon nin_, I will do what you never had a chance to do," the elf whispered, not caring that the words brought odd stares in his direction. He looked to the Ringbearers and spoke quickly. "Cellnen has told me what must be done. We have a choice to make; shall we allow Graelath to pass to nothing, or should we grant him reprieve and send him to Mandos' Halls?"

The first instinct from the group was to let him rot, judging by the cries of anger at this suggestion. But as they stood and watched the wizard choke on his own blood and gasp for air, they perceived something in his eyes that they never thought they would see.

Pain.

But not physical pain. No, it was deeper than that. Emotional pain. Graelath regretted something.

Galadriel, knowing more of his history than the others, spoke up. "I believe the power of the Elven Rings should be used as they were meant to be used; to help someone. Let us send him on to Mandos' Halls, where after being judged and punished for his crimes he will be reunited with his family."

The wizard's eyes widened at the she-Elf's statement. "You…would…do that?"

Galadriel looked down at him, and despite her grief, she was able to smile kindly at the person that had caused them such pain. "You were once noble and kind, Graelath, Black Wizard. Perhaps in death you will be as you once were." Elrond rose from his daughter's side and came to stand between Galadriel and Gandalf, as the twins took his place next to Arwen.

Legolas looked around. "Do we all agree?"

Even Arwen, to whom the meanest hand of all had been dealt, nodded her agreement. Frodo, Sam, Merry and Pippin, watched from behind as the three Ringbearers brought their hands from their sleeves and began to speak in the High Tongue. One by one, the Rings became visible to all, and the jewels on the Rings lit up from within, radiating a glow that matched the color of the stone.

Legolas watched and as each Ring responded to its bearer, something inside him told him what was happening to the wizard as the Rings' powers gatherered and built, the light increasing as the power grew stronger. Taking a deep breath, he listened to Cellnen's voice in his mind, beginning to speak softly, a low harmony to the powers of the Rings.

_Red, from Narya, the Ring of Fire, to burn away the hatred that Graelath had felt._

_Blue, from Vilya, the Ring of Water, to wash away the pain of that long-ago loss._

_Clear white light, from Nenya, the Ring of Adamant, to bring healing and peace to a soul that had long been held in torment._

Graelath's eyes widened as he felt a cold, numbing chill begin to spread from the wound in his chest. The blood flowing from the knife wound began to lighten from dark red, to light red, to pink and lastly to clear.

Suddenly, the Hobbits heard commotion from the corridor. _Orcs!_ Frodo thought. Knowing that the others could not be disturbed, the Hobbits exchanged glances and pulled their swords from their sheaths. Sting began to glow a radiant blue in Frodo's grip.

"Come on," Merry whispered. "We can handle this on our own." And they stole off toward the door. It was indeed Orcs, lead by Moroch, who up until now the rescuers had not gotten a look at. The Orc drew a crude scimitar and brandished it at the nearest Hobbit, which happened to be Pippin. But the young Hobbit wasn't caught unawares and he parried the blow with ease. All four of the Hobbits had gotten rather good at swordplay during the War, and they fought back, desperate to protect the Elves while they finished their task.

A few short, fierce seconds later, more Orcs and an Uruk-hai archer entered the corridor just outside the chamber. Quickly the tide was turning against the hobbits. Suddenly, from seemingly nowhere, a Dwarven battle cry erupted and an axe impacted the chest of the archer, sending him backwards and to the ground.

Gimli raced forward and pulled his ax from the body, whirling it a bit, and then plunged it into the nearest Orc. "Thought you four could use a hand out here, seeing that those Elves are busy talking in there."

Frodo chuckled at the sarcasm in Gimli's words. He might still act like he didn't like Elves, but everyone knew he greatly respected his Elven friends. And everyone also knew, they were doing much more than talking in there.

The battle quickly ended once Gimli and the Hobbits joined together and they wasted no time in hurrying back into the chamber. Skidding to a halt just beside the twins, Arwen and Thranduil, they watched the passing of Graelath.

Graelath's eyes met those of each person in the room, including Arwen and Aragorn. His mouth moved, but no sound emerged. As they watched his eyes began to change, turning from deep black to a rich blue. And in those eyes was regret, and sorrow for the pain he had caused. Honest, true regret, Legolas knew as the wizard focused on him.

_: Good-bye my friend. May you find healing beyond the white shores. :_ Cellnen whispered quietly, even though no one but Legolas could hear him.

And the wizard drew breath no more.


	26. A Brief Respite and Unexpected Tensions

**Reviewer responses for Chapter 25:**

_Deana:_ Ugh, sorry for the wait. Glad you like the story still.

_Kelsey Estel: _Don't worry, the story isn't over yet! We have more Orcs to deal with and a spell to work on! I am real sorry for the wait but RL is in the way again. As for Legolas' power…I'm not sure what I'm going to use it for, if I am…you shall see though.

_Moonyasha:_ Glad you liked. I guess it was rather shocking!

_Mornflower_: Hehe…hi there. Glad you liked. Yes, the no kid spell was mean. Enjoy this update. I know it was long in coming.

_Insane Pirate:_ Hey there. Glad you liked. Yep, Graelath did pay but was forgiven. Odd way I admit, but just kind of worked. I have more interesting twists in store too.

_Pirate Gyrl:_ Hello again! Glad you reviewed. And glad that you liked the chapters you read and I hope you like this one as well!

_Ringmarciel:_ To each his own I guess. At least you thought it was well-written. The power wasn't really all that sudden, and the Ringbearers showed just how strong they were in the chapter. After all, Legolas could never have given Graelath the death he was graced by the Elven rings.

_Keshieshimmer:_ Glad you liked. There will be more chapters to come. It's not over yet.

_Karone Evertree_: Glad you liked. I rendered you speechless! Wow!

_Isiliel:_ Thanks for the comments. Yes, the bit with Arwen was sad…is sad…but will it be sad in the end? Enjoy!

_Zammy_: Updating…though not really soon…

_Yaviel_: It is almost over, sort of, but I already have the makings of an epilogue, so don't worry!

_Alatariel Narmolanya_: Hehe…glad you liked the chapter. As for Arwen…you shall see.

_DriggerWhiteTiger:_ Welcome aboard the reviewer bandwagon. Glad you like the story and I do hope you continue to tune in!

_Kirsten_: Not the end…not the end.

_Goldenshadows_: I was hoping that people would be surprised by Graelath's end. Enjoy this chappie.

_Blue Eyed Pyro_: Hehe. I won't kill anyone you like…well I don't think I will…I'm not sure who you like!

**_Yaviel_** **again**: Almost feeling sorry for Graelath happened to a couple of people! I'm thrilled that you like my writing and I'm really honored by your review! Thank you very much!

**A/N: Ack...I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry. That's all I can say about the long wait for this chapter. I hope that the chapter, however, makes up for the wait that you all had to endure and I hope that you are still with us. Enjoy!**

**-Gwenneth

* * *

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Chapter 26: _A Brief Respite and Unexpected Tensions_**

Much of the first couple of days of the trip back to Minas Tirith was quiet. None of them were quite sure what would happen now that Graelath was dead. Surely the Orc armies on the borders of Helm's Deep and Minas Tirith would not simply back down.

"As it stands now, I fear that neither the Rohan nor those in Gondor have the necessary strength of arms to defeat the armies of Graelath," Aragorn said, breaking the silence as they skirted the Pelennor Fields, staying among the trees that ringed the fields to avoid being seen. "But the Orc army in Minas Tirith will be smaller than the one at Helm's Deep, for they would need more troops to pass the Deeping Wall. We may have a chance to defeat them and then take whatever troops we have left to aid Eomer."

Elrond, with all his experience in battle from his many long years, nodded in agreement. "I too believe our best chance lies with the defeat of the Orcs outside Minas Tirith. If we can reach Faramir and prepare a strong surprise attack, we might just gain victory. And without Graelath's shadow to worry about, things will be much easier. Those in Helm's Deep have a better chance of holding out against attack, for the Deep is greatly fortified."

Legolas, normally quick to join in discussion of plans, said nothing, merely watched the others speak and make decisions. Since Arwen's miscarriage, he had spoken little. He was still blaming himself despite Aragorn's assurances that he was not at fault. His mind ran through the scene in the torture chamber over and over again, tormenting the Elf and adding to his depression.

Despite his best efforts to hide his feelings, no one was fooled, not even Lowgala who was once again chatting away happily with the twins. They, however, were not responding in kind, each lost in his own thoughts of Arwen.

The Queen, who should have been the most affected of them all, had had enough of the depressive cloud hovering over the group. Finally, she spoke. "I can no longer handle this heavy atmosphere. All of you had better stop feeling sorry for me and feeling misplaced guilt or I will have to take drastic matters and teach you all a lesson."

Shocked eyes looked up at these words and everyone remained speechless. A small smile graced Galadriel's face at her granddaughter's words. "Arwen is right, _mellyn nin_ (my friends), we must not dwell on the things that have passed. Instead, we must focus on what we do next. The future is always in motion; this spell may yet be broken."

The last line she spoke as she looked Legolas in the eyes, and suddenly, he jerked. Though it had happened before, during the Fellowship's stay in Lothlorien, Legolas had always found her speech in his head unnerving, and this time was no different.

_: You spoke to Cellnen in Graelath's tower. I know he is the one who told you how to kill the wizard. Perhaps he knows how to reverse the spell. In time, you may discover how to speak to him; he is, after all, a part of you. :_

The young Elf watched the Lady for a few moments as he rode, Gimli tightening his grip around his friend's waist. _Cellnen is a part of me? What could she have meant by that? I honestly thought the message from Cellnen was borne on the wind from the Valar…could he really be alive inside me?_

He would have continued his thoughts if Gimli hadn't tugged insistently on the Elf's tunic, ever mindful not to jar his companion's healing back.

"Oh, Master Elf, could you get your head out of the trees for one blasted moment?" Gimli waited until he heard a sigh in response. Legolas was listening. "I know you are blaming yourself for Arwen's, eh… predicament. It's folly I tell you. We have bigger things to worry about right now, like an Orc army on the doorstep of two great cities. Stay with us in spirit and mind, not just body, my friend. There may be no shadow anymore, no Graelath, but we still need you just as we always have, Legolas."

For a moment, no one said anything. All the Elves, with their keen hearing, had been privy to the speech, though they doubted Gimli had thought of that as he gave it. Lord Elrond shook his head, ever amazed at the camaraderie between the Elf and Dwarf.

"Dear Gimli is right, Legolas." Arwen suddenly appeared next to the two riders, her white mare bobbing her head up and down in greeting to the neighboring horse. "You can not know that the bolt itself caused the miscarriage. It could have been the journey and the battles before I was even taken. It might have happened even if I was still in Minas Tirith, lounging in the gardens without a care in the world." Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. "I do not blame you and I can't stand to see you like this. You are a wood Elf, light of heart and sound in battle, not this depressed lump sitting atop a horse that you have been of late."

Legolas had to chuckle at the last description of him. He looked to Arwen, reached out and gripped her hand. "You are very wise, Arwen, and a good friend. Despite your own heart-ache and turmoil, you take the time to comfort me. I will find a way to reverse this spell. I promise you that."

Before the Queen could argue, Aragorn called out from the front of the group. "We are nearing the encampment outside Minas Tirith. I will ride ahead with Elladan and announce our presence. We don't want any nervous border guards to shoot us before we reach Faramir."

Without waiting for a response, the two rode off in the direction of Minas Tirith, leaving their companions to wait for their return. Elrond had his daughter sit down, still not happy with her health. Arwen was pale, more so than usual, and he wanted to be completely positive that Graelath had not done more then make her unable to bear children.

He also wanted to check Legolas' wounds and some of the Elven warriors from Lothlorien who had not escaped the battle outside the tower without injuries. Sighing, he watched until Elladan and Aragorn were out of sight, and then proceeded to look over Arwen who huffed at the attention.

"_Adar, _I am fine really. The miscarriage has weakened me, but you needn't hover."

Galadriel laughed. "Dearest Arwen. You shall never convince your father not to hover, for you are his only daughter and he shall always coddle you."

Arwen grumbled under her breath, but did not reply. In truth, she felt better knowing that if there was something wrong with her Elrond would discover it. In his care, there was little she needed to worry about.

Seeing that all was well here, Galadriel joined Gandalf who was regaling the Hobbits and Lowgala with tales of his adventures with Bilbo and the Dwarves when they were trekking through Mirkwood.

Legolas, though a little less somber after his talk with Arwen, was still not as chipper as usual and was sitting alone near a newly built fire, staring into the flames, the glow reflecting back off his eyes.

He was aware when Gimli and Thranduil joined him. The later was very pale and Legolas, seeing this, looked up. "_Adar, _are you well?"

The King of Eryn Lasgalen made to shake off the question, but a grunt and a light shove from Gimli made him wince. He had been found out. The Dwarf glared at the Elf. "Now I know where he gets it!" He pointed an accusing finger at Legolas.

The prince moved quickly, quicker than he ought to have with the still-healing wounds from his torture at Graelath's tower. "You should have mentioned this! How did you escape the notice of Lord Elrond and the ever-watchful Estel?"

Thranduil chuckled, glancing at Elrond as he bustled about his daughter. "I fear Elrond and Aragorn were a bit preoccupied with the Queen. But I am also talented at hiding injuries, which I see you have learned from me."

Legolas, in spite of the bloody tunic his father wore, nodded and laughed lightly. "Yes. So it would seem. Let me see to this wound of yours, for you were not fully healed from the grievous hurts you took in Eryn Lasgalen, and you should not have let this go so long."

Thranduil grunted and stiffened slightly as the tunic tugged on the drying blood. "Yes, so I see. This makes it more difficult."

The prince smiled knowingly, but said nothing. To his great relief, the cut was not deep and would require no stitches, simply a poultice and well-applied bandages. Hurrying about his work he soon had the wound covered and wrapped.

"_Hannon le, ion nin_ (Thank you, my son)," the Elf lord said with a smile. All the while, Gimli had been watching them. Finally, he could not resist.

"Legolas, how did you do what you did in the tower? How did you catch that arrow and then suspend that knife in mid-air? How do you _do_ these things?"

Legolas looked at the Dwarf, seeing the sincerity in the being's eyes. Sighing, Legolas almost shrugged but thought better of it. "I don't rightly know Gimli. I have since realized that Cellnen, somehow, lives within me and he shares his powers with me. I do not know how long this will remain. But there is at least one thing left that I must do."

His eyes flickered momentarily to Arwen, then back to Gimli. "As for the arrow, that is something I have been working toward for ages. When I was young, there was a truly remarkable feat that the warriors used to do. They would fire arrows to each other and catch them, moving just at the right moment to avoid being struck dead."

Thranduil sighed. "The first time he tried it Legolas ended up with an arrow in his shoulder."

Legolas winced. "You didn't have to tell him that!"

Gimli laughed, drawing the attention of Galadriel, Celeborn, Gandalf and the Hobbits who had been talking nearby. "What is so funny over here?" Gandalf asked.

Before long, Legolas was huffing in quiet embarrassment as his father told the tale of his first attempts at arrow catching feats. The Elven-king worked the group into tears with his dramatic gestures and antics.

Legolas wondered just how much time his father had spent with Gimli. He vowed if ever he was in the company of Gimli's people, he would tell them a tale or two about the Dwarf.

He sighed and listened. To an onlooker it would seem these people had not a care in the world. But despite the one grand victory they had already accomplished, there was much left to do and little time to do it in.

* * *

**  
Helm's Deep…**

Eomer and Hallin spoke quietly in the throne room, keeping their voices just low enough to avoid being overheard.

"Do you really think this idea of yours would work, Hallin? It is a great risk we take if it doesn't, for it would leave a way into the Deep open to Graelath's hordes." Eomer was lightly fingering the sword at his side, looking anywhere but at the dwarf in front of him.

Hallin grumbled. "For the third time, Lord Eomer, this is a good plan. It has worked numerous times in the past for Dwarven lords and I really don't see why we should be sitting here waiting to be attacked by superior numbers."

Eowyn, standing behind the throne leaning down over her brother, chose this moment to interject her opinion. "Hallin is right, Eomer. His idea is a good one and if we manage to destroy or rout these Orcs we can ride to Minas Tirith and help defeat the army there."

The king frowned. He knew his sister's thoughts dwelt with her husband and he didn't fault her for that, but he also knew that this plan could spell disaster for them if it did not work precisely as planned.

"Master Dwarf, can you ensure that the Orcs will not know of the tunneling? Can you be certain we will be able to attack them from the rear before they know what hit them?"

Hallin looked up. "I can not be certain of anything but this, Lord Eomer. Dwarves were meant for tunneling and it is what we do best besides cleaving the heads of Orcs with our axes. We have been tunneling from the caves under the plateau outside the Deep for months now. It would be easy to ease the tunnel upward and break through in the rear of the army, giving us the means to attack them from behind."

The dwarf leaned forward and looked Eomer in the eyes. "The question is, King of Rohan, do you trust us?"

Eomer took a deep breath and reached out, clasping Hallin on the shoulder. "That I do, Master Dwarf. Let us try this scheme of yours and pray that it works."

Eowyn smiled lightly, happy that they were finally going to take matters into their own hands. She had long ago grown tired of remaining idle and itched for the thrill of battle.

* * *

**  
Outside Faramir's Encampment…**

Aragorn and Elladan dismounted when the Elf picked up the sounds of a border guard pacing back and forth in his watch pattern. The Elf gently nudged the two dark-haired steeds toward a patch of light grass where they would remain until returned for.

Then, he and Aragorn went forward until the challenge came. "Who goes there?" cried the soldier on watch, his voice wavering as he drew a sword noisily from its sheath. "Make yourselves known or I shall not hesitate to call for aid!"

Loudly and with authority, Aragorn called back. "It is I, King Elessar. If you promise not to fire a weapon, should you carry one which fires, I shall gladly come into the open and prove my identity."

There was a minute of silence from the guard. Elladan could hear the shaky intake of breath and the shifting of feet. Turning to Aragorn he whispered, "He is uncertain, Estel. Speak softer and with less of an edge. I can sense that he is quite young."

Nodding in understanding, the King spoke again. "I will move slowly, with no weapons and my hands held high above my head. I shall not harm you. And I will tell you now I have a companion, my brother, Elladan of Imladris, son of Lord Elrond."

Elladan listened carefully. The pacing had stopped. He could no longer tell if the border guard was still anxious. Then a response came from the solider. "Aye then, move slowly and keep your hands where I can see them. And your companion must do the same."

Gesturing for Elladan to follow him, the two left their weapons on the ground where they would retrieve them later and moved very slowly forward. Elladan had brushed his hair behind his ears, wondering if seeing an Elf would convince the young man that they meant him no harm.

The guard slowly came into view. He didn't look a day over 20, but it was difficult to tell these days. A new recruit, Aragorn decided. He smiled at the look of shock that registered on the guard's face as he recognized his King. In no time flat he had lowered his weapon and fell to one knee, bowing his head.

"Forgive me, my Lord, for drawing my weapon on you. If I had known it was you I would not have."

Aragorn tugged the young man to his feet, lifting the young chin and forcing the boy to look into his eyes. The King's deep orbs were shining as he smiled. "You have nothing to apologize for, young soldier, for you were doing your job and doing it well. I will rest easier in camp knowing that the border has such careful guard."

Nodding and letting a small smile cross his features, the young soldier turned toward Elladan and bowed his head in respect. "Greetings, Lord Elladan."

The Elf nodded and smiled. "Greetings, young one. Would you be so kind as to point us toward Lord Faramir? There is great need for us to enter into discussions with him."

Nodding, the soldier directed them to the Steward. Not far from his watch position was the first tent of the encampment. The whole army was well hidden, which was doubtlessly Faramir's work from having spent time as a Ranger. It wouldn't surprise Aragorn if the Orcs were unaware of this army. _This may work to our advantage, _the man thought.

In a moment they were outside the largest tent where the faces of the guards on duty lit up with delight at the sight of their King. "My Lord Elessar! You are safe and have returned!" One cried, then immediately sobered and bowed low. "Please, my Lord." He opened the flap of the tent and announced to the Steward the King's arrival.

Faramir smiled broadly. "My Lord, you look well! What news do you bring?"

It took a few moments to bring Faramir up to date with what had happened in the last days. He was overjoyed to hear of the defeat of Graelath and even more so to hear that few lives had been lost in the battle, though wounds had been taken.

When Faramir heard of the fate of the Queen his eyes darkened. "That vile creature, how could he? What did she do to deserve such a fate?"

Aragorn knew not and he said so. "But at least in the end Graelath knew regret and knew pain. In the end, he returned home."

Faramir nodded, uncertain if he really felt that Graelath deserved that. But he put the thought from his mind. "My Lord, do you have a plan to destroy this Orc army? The less time we waste here, the sooner we can ride to the aid of the Rohan."

Resting a hand on Faramir's arm the King nodded. "I have a plan, though I cannot be certain it will suffice until I have surveyed the situation and spoken at length with you and your captains. But know this: we shall not waste time unnecessarily. I know you worry for your wife, but she is well, I know this."

Faramir looked down, then back up quickly and nodded, resolve in his eyes. "I shall take comfort in your words my Lord, for I know you are wise. Come, we have much to discuss. I shall take you to the hillside where we have been monitoring the Orcs."

And they began to hatch their plan.

* * *

**  
Outside the Gondorian encampment…**

After the tears of mirth had been wiped from everyone's eyes, Legolas finally allowed a small smile to cross his face. While his father had regaled his closest friends with tales of his youthful antics, the Elf Prince had sat in stony, embarrassed silence.

Luckily, stomachs chose that moment to groan and Pippin suggested that he and Sam rustle up a victory feast. Until now, they had been weary and depressed and it was Hobbit fashion to celebrate good fortune.

As the Hobbits lumbered off to gather supplies, dragging a reluctant Lowgala along with them, Legolas began to once again ponder Galadriel's earlier words. _So Cellnen resides within me? But how do I go about communicating with him? Gweluthand, do you know how I can do it?_

He wasn't immediately answered by the air shield. But when he was, it wasn't really what he had hoped for. _: I am but a power that first he and now you possess, Legolas. I work at your bidding, but I know not how. How do you know what to ask of me:_

The elf shrugged, drawing odd stares. But no one questioned him on the strange action. His brow furrowed, Legolas huffed lightly. _Why is this so hard? What if I just talked…like I did with Gweluthand? Just…speak._

And so he did. Tentatively, within his mind, he spoke, just as he always did when he thought to himself. _Cellnen? Can you hear me, mellon nin? Is this the way?_

A chuckle resounded in the Elf's mind and he physically jumped in response. Grinning sheepishly he nodded to everyone as he stood and walked away.

Galadriel restrained Gimli from pursuing him. "I believe he has made contact," she whispered to the tense Dwarf. "Leave him be _elvellon_ (elf-friend)."

For his part, Legolas was unaware of the stares he was receiving, so caught up in this new revelation was he. Once he reached a safe distance from the group, so as to avoid stares and distractions, Legolas tentatively voiced another mental sentence. _What's so funny? Was that you? Did you laugh in my mind, Cellnen?_

There was another chuckle and an almost exasperated response. _: Yes, Legolas, I did. And it's about time you figured out that I was part of you and that you could speak directly to me. :_

Legolas huffed at that. _Why didn't you just speak to me instead of making me figure out how to speak to you?_

Cellnen laughed again. _: It doesn't work that way, young one. And don't ask me what doesn't work that way because I cannot explain to you how this all came to pass. I believe you can figure that out on your own anyway. :_

Legolas chose not to answer that. He wasn't really going to worry about how Cellnen was a part of him. He had bigger things to discuss with the Silvan Elf than that. _Do you know of the spell Graelath cast upon Arwen? Is there a counter spell? Or anything at all that we, or you, or I can do to reverse it?_

The Elf frowned inwardly at the bumbling question. He really didn't know just how to go about this. After all, it wasn't everyday that you learned someone who had been dead for thousands of years actually lived inside you and that you could communicate with them.

He frowned when Cellnen's answer wasn't forthcoming. Getting slightly impatient, mostly with worry, Legolas prodded his new-found friend. _Cellnen? __Is there a way?_

Another exasperated sigh and chuckle. _: Peace, Legolas. I have not had the occasion to need this information. I am merely…how might one say it…racking my brain for the answer. :_

This time Legolas laughed. Out loud. The sound echoed in the stillness of the day and he gulped and looked around again. People were really going to think he was going crazy.

Finally there was an answer. _: I do know of a spell, Legolas. But something troubles me. There was part of the spell that Graelath cast I could not translate. It has been many years since I have heard the Etrain language, and I am afraid I have forgotten many of the words. I do not know if it will hinder my counter spell or not. :_

Legolas didn't like the sound of that. _We must try, Cellnen!_ He would have gone on, but found himself cut off by Cellnen.

_: Rest easy, young one. We will not abandon Arwen to this evil fate. We will try...I can tell you what to say and do. :_

The Silvan Elf would have gone on, but something approaching camp interrupted Legolas' attention and Cellnen stopped speaking in the Elf's mind as Legolas stopped listening.

Obviously Legolas had to be intent on listening to Cellnen to speak directly to him and the distraction cut off their communications.

"Nobody move! Get your hands up where we can see them before we consider you hostile and take appropriate measures! Who is in charge here?"

Everyone in the near vicinity, namely the group's leaders, froze in absolute shock. Several of the Lothlorien elves shifted warily, wanting to reach for their weapons, but not daring to without an explicit command. Not a sound permeated the air until Pippin dropped the pot in his hand. He had held it so long in the same place that it had become red hot.

"Ouch!" he muttered, trying not to move, but finding that the burning in his hand made him bob up and down on his toes in pain.

The man who had spoken, his bow draw and an arrow notched, looked over at the fire where the Hobbit was.

"What the...?" he muttered, uncertainty creeping into his mind. He had heard of Hobbits, knew of the role they played in the defeat of Sauron, but he had never seen one, for he had not been in the battle at the Black Gates, but recovering due to an injury sustained when Sauron laid siege to Minas Tirith. "Who are you people?"

Deciding to act as the leader, Elrond rose, keeping his hands up so that the Captain could see that despite the fact that he was carrying a sword, he couldn't reach it before one of the soldiers was able to fire on him. "We are friends; there is no need to worry. We will do you no harm, young Captain."

But neither the arrow, nor the bow, was lowered. "You are unknown to me. I have not seen you before. I have not had word from my superiors that people would be approaching camp. Why are you here?"

Legolas frowned. These men must not have had occasion to be around their King much, for if they had they would have recognized many of those present.

Speaking up, her voice soft and calm, Galadriel smiled at the men. "You really have nothing to fear. Your King has returned and we are traveling with him. He has traveled into your encampment and sought an audience with your Steward."

The man looked at her and faltered, the beauty of the Elf Queen momentarily intoxicating him. But the moment was short lived.

"I must take you to my lord Faramir," he directed at Elrond. "You are the leader of this group, are you not?"

Elrond looked around at his companions. They all nodded their assent. It was a tense situation and there was no reason to make it more so by arguing amongst themselves over who would represent them.

"I will come with you," Elrond stated, stepping forward slowly, still keeping his hands where they could be seen.

His conversation with Cellnen forgotten, Legolas frowned at the arrows pointed directly at him. How could any of the King's men not know of his Elven family and close friends?

Legolas moved a little and saw a bow string draw back further. He looked at the man holding it and with a trained eye, took in the shaking hands, and realized that this young soldier might inadvertently release his arrow. Only an incredibly strong and well-trained archer could hold a string back so tightly for so long without fear of accidentally releasing the arrow. This soldier, young as he was, obviously didn't have that experience or strength yet.

With a small sigh, he spoke lightly. "Easy now, I shall not move for any weapons. You need not draw that any further."

The young man wavered, his eyes widening. The captain saw immediately what was happening and scolded the man. "Garest, easy with that. You don't want to accidentally shoot the Elf, in case they are telling the truth."

Legolas huffed. _In case we are telling the truth_. If Aragorn wasn't such a noble and forgiving man these men would be in deep trouble for these actions.

The Elf watched with slight apprehension as the Captain of this guard and Elrond moved off in the direction Aragorn had gone.

Because the men were outnumbered by Elves, they were not taking any chances. None came close enough for an Elf to touch them, nor did they lower or slacken their bows.

Legolas was uneasy with the young one behind him. He knew that the man was nervous and twitchy and Legolas half-expected something to go wrong.

Unfortunately, he was right.

The zing was unmistakable…an arrow leaving a bowstring. Next there was the biting pain of the projectile's impact. Thranduil gave a shout as Legolas was knocked forward a step, the arrow hitting him in the right arm.

He cringed in pain, but was thankful that the young man's aim was not good. Speaking of the young man, he frantically moved forward.

"Oh no!" he cringed at the look on the other blonde Elf's face, the one who was rushing toward them despite the calls of his friends. "I'm sorry!"

Thranduil reached them before the other men could stop him. A fierce look at the approaching lieutenant stopped the man from arguing. "Legolas, are you all right?"

The young Elf nodded slowly. "I will be all right. It is not bad, father. He only hit my arm."

The shot, though it was not pleasant, was not serious. But it did manage to change the tide of their situation. The men felt horrible for shooting one of the newcomers for no reason and all lowered their weapons, although none of them were put away.

The lieutenant spoke shakily. "You did not retaliate when we shot one of your number. I do not think you intend to do us ill. Are you really with the King?"

Galadriel and Mithrandir spoke to the men while Elrohir came over to where Thranduil and Legolas stood. The younger twin skillfully and quickly removed the arrow and wrapped the wound. There was still tension in the air, but no longer the threat of an unwanted skirmish.

Legolas, once his wound was bandaged, sighed, "Why me?"

Gimli, choosing that moment to be a nuisance, answered for him. "Because you, my blasted Elven friend, attract arrows like a horse attracts flies."

They all had to laugh at that, even Legolas, whose face turned a peculiar shade of red at the statement.

* * *

**  
Inside Faramir's tent…**

"Well, from what I can tell from these reports and from what I saw up on the hillside, we should be able to take care of the Orc army with just the Lorien elves and our men here."

Aragorn leaned back in the chair he was seated in, his legs stretched out underneath the table that was strewn with maps, reports and various other odds and ends.

He looked up at Faramir and Elladan, both of whom were staring at him as if waiting for something. The King's eyebrows lifted in question.

"What?"

Elladan burst out laughing. "Comfortable, my brother? You look as if you haven't a care in the world. Might I remind you of the Orc army waiting to be destroyed?"

Estel frowned at the Elf and looked over at Faramir who was desperately attempting to wipe the smile off his face.

They were about to continue when the flap of the tent burst open and a guard came in. "My lord Faramir! Intruders were located outside the encampment! Captain Hemdarn has brought the leader into camp." Then he spotted Aragorn and stiffened to attention, snapping out a salute. "Your Majesty!"

Aragorn and the others sobered immediately. "Show this leader in immediately!" The King rose from his seat and came around to the front of the table.

He watched the flap open and the head duck in. The head of long, raven hair, some of which was pulled back to reveal the lightly pointed ears of the newcomer.

"_Adar_!" Aragorn exclaimed. "What in the world is the meaning of this!" He moved forward, looking over the elder Elf to make sure he was unharmed.

Elladan took a step forward in alarm. "Are you all right! Why have you been labeled an intruder?"

The Captain, seeing immediately that he had made a mistake, fell to one knee. "I am so sorry, my liege. I did not know! I thought they were sneaking up on us and meant us harm!"

Aragorn's first reaction was to angrily chastise the man, but he thought better of it. That would do no good in this situation.

Elrond thought likewise. "These men had no knowledge of who we are Estel, they have not had occasion to see us I would assume. This was a simple mistake…a case where your guards were taking extra precaution."

Nodding, the man agreed. "I did not want to run the risk they were enemies."

Aragorn, still peeved at the treatment of his father, gestured for the man to leave. "I will go back to the encampment myself and make certain that this ill situation is rectified," the King said, his voice stern.

Nodding, the man left the tent in shame. Aragorn turned to his father, his bravado gone. "Was I too hard on him?"

Elrond smiled. "No, I do not believe so. But tensions were high in camp; I do believe we should return immediately. I have a sense of foreboding."

The younger man nodded and hurried out of the tent, followed by Faramir, Elrond and Elladan. It would only take them about ten minutes to return to the place they had left the Lorien elves and their other companions.

* * *

**  
With the remaining Fellowship…**

Aragorn stormed into the camp fully prepared for the worst, expecting swords and arrows to be trained on his friends and family.

He did not expect to find the men laughing with the Lorien elves around a number of fires that had been lit. "What the…?"

Aragorn stood rooted to the spot. "I thought that tensions were high?" he muttered, looking to Elrond, who was equally as surprised at the change in the atmosphere.

"My liege!" called a Lieutenant. Quickly rising, he hurried over and bowed. "My lord we discovered the identity of these people. Purely by accident, but we know they are not intruders."

The King nodded. "Yes, they are my friends and family. How did you come to this conclusion when the Captain did not?"

The man gulped. "Well, one of the men accidentally shot one of the Elves. And uh…we figured when there was no retaliation that they really didn't mean us harm."

Aragorn had stopped listening after "shot one of the Elves" and his eyes immediately jerked toward one of the fire pits. "Legolas!"

The Elf in question looked up and rolled his eyes. "Of course he immediately figures it was me. What did I do to deserve this reputation?"

He silenced Gimli before the Dwarf could speak. "I am fine, Aragorn. It was a mere flesh wound. Better that we dispelled the tension quickly."

"Right." the King murmured as he hurried over and moved to check the wound himself. Legolas, however, would have nothing of it.

"Aragorn, _daro_ (stop)!" he looked up as Elrond approaching, a mix of concern and amusement on his face. "What are the plans of battle, my friend? We wish to know how we will proceed."

Sighing when he realized Legolas would not let him touch his arm, Aragorn settled beside the small fire. He called all those pertinent to the conversation over to him, and Gandalf, Galadriel, Haldir, Faramir, Elrond, Thranduil, Legolas, his Hobbit friends, Gimli, the twins, and Arwen came over and gathered around him, some of them sitting on the ground, while the Elves preferred to stand, their superior height still enabling them to see.

"I have perused the reports from the scouts and viewed the Orc encampment from a high-up vantage point. Faramir and I have come up with a plausible course of action, which we believe to be the only course."

Faramir nodded in agreement.

Continuing, Aragorn pulled two stones toward him. "This represents Osgiliath and this one Minas Tirith." He placed them opposite each other. Grabbing a pot, he placed it in the middle of the two. "This is the Orc encampment in the Pelennor Fields."

Everyone listened carefully and nodded in understanding. Now Aragorn grabbed a spoon with a long handle.

"The encampment of Faramir and the Gondorian soldiers is here, in these woods," he gestured to a point on the far edge of the fields. "We will send men into Osgiliath, who will then ride out toward the Orc army from that direction. Meanwhile…" he gestured along the edge of the field. "…another force, led by myself, will skirt the Orc army and come between it and Minas Tirith as the force led by Faramir draws the Orcs toward Osgiliath."

Legolas caught on. "We will capture the Orcs in the middle, then?"

Nodding, Aragorn smiled. "Exactly. If we time this right, we can destroy them from both ends. Without the shadow, there is no need to worry about any of us forgetting our purpose. With the distraction from Osgiliath, my group will have little difficulty crossing the plains. It will be night and the plains dark."

Elrond interjected. "The night tonight looks to be a cloudy one," he looked up at the quickly darkening sky. "Under the cover of the clouds the plains will be cover enough for the troops."

He looked to his Elven companions. "Aragorn? Shall the Elves of Lorien go with Faramir? For their light will attract the attention of the Orcs toward Osgiliath."

Aragorn's brow furrowed. "Yes, that seems a wise move. Though I wish for Legolas and Thranduil to remain with me."

The two blonde Elves huffed. They looked at each other, each thinking the reason for this request was to keep them under the man's healer eye.

"Agreed," Elrond said with a smile. "Then the twins and I should accompany Haldir and the Lorien elves in Osgiliath."

Aragorn nodded slowly. "I hate to break us up, but it is best. Arwen, Gimli and the Hobbits will accompany me as well."

Lowgala piped up. "And me? I want to go with the twin Elves."

Elladan moved to interject, but Aragorn answered quickly. "All right, you will accompany that troop, Lowgala." He looked up at his brothers. "He will be no safer with me."

Arwen frowned slightly. "Estel, perhaps it would be better if _Ada_, _Daernaneth_(Grandmother)and I stayed here, with a guard, to have a place to bring the wounded after the battle. I am not capable of fighting in my current state, and they are the most skilled healers here, other than you."

Elrond and Galadriel glanced at each other and nodded in agreement. Galadriel spoke softly. "Arwen is correct, Aragorn. It would be best to have the healers here, where we can be of aid, rather than risking our lives on the battlefield."

Aragorn nodded slowly, he also liked that plan. 'Fine. Gandalf, where will you be?"

The wizard contemplated the layout and the groups. "I will ride with the elves. I may be able to do something to draw the Orcs attention and keep it on us while the rest get into place."

"Then it's a plan?" Aragorn asked, looking at his friends and family. Galadriel and Gandalf nodded. Celeborn, who had been quiet up until now, nodded as well.

"Haldir and I will do well with Faramir and a few men of Gondor in Osgiliath," he said. "We will not need many to draw their attention. My archers will not let you down."

Galadriel glanced at him for a moment. It pained her to think of separation again.

All in agreement with the plans, everyone began to break off and do whatever they customarily did on the eve of battle.

When night fell, the maneuvering would begin.


End file.
